Betrayed
by Lossefalme
Summary: KOTOR1&2,AU:Carth embarks on a quest for revenge after he's betrayed by Revan, the woman he'd grown to love. Will the power of the love they once shared be enough to heal his hatred, to bring Revan back from the Dark Side? Or will one of them have to die?
1. Betrayed

**Author's Note:** This story is based around what happened in my gameplay during "Knights of the Old Republic 1". **There will be lots and lots of game plot/game end spoilers in this story if you have not played "Knights of the Old Republic 1 OR 2!** (This story will cross the gap between the first and second games.) So if you have not played either game and plan to, and don't want to know what's going to happen to your character, DO NOT READ this fic. (In fact stop reading NOW. Go on, leave if you're going to... are you gone yet?) ...If you _have_ played both games before, then you need only know this: in my game Revan was female and Dark Side, and after Carth ran off at the final confrontation on the unknown planet, he did NOT show up again. This fic is my closure to that loose end. Hope you enjoy!

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**Betrayed**

There was blood in the sand; dark pools beneath the bodies of the people he had used to know. He tried not to see them, to ignore them. He had seen death before, many times. He had witnessed the murder of those he fought alongside in war more often than he ever wished to remember. But this... He closed his eyes as he passed what was left of Mission and Zaalbar, letting his feet carry him onward blindly, toward the boarding ramp of the _Ebon Hawk_. The ship was his only hope... perhaps the Republic's only hope. He had to get off this planet... he had to warn them...

He stumbled as his feet abruptly hit the edge of the ramp, and opening his eyes once more, he scrambled up into the dark interior of the freighter. He jogged along the abandoned hallways, his mind racing so fast it felt numb. Part of him still refused to believe it; the other part of him accepted the truth with a bitter sense of self-loathing. He had seen this coming. He had seen the signs, he had heard the confession himself, and yet his foolishness had prevented him from acting on his suspicions. He had allowed his feelings to override his sense, something he had sworn never to do again long ago. He had allowed Revan's sweet-sounding lies to calm his worries, to weaken his guard, to ignite hope in him once more. After all his years of suffering from the betrayal of Saul... after all his vows to never trust anyone again... after all his efforts to remain completely emotionally independent from anyone... he had fallen right back into the trap.

Friendship, comraderie, loyalty... love.

And he had been betrayed. Again.

The hatred was intense, burning within his chest like a superheated sun. He _hated_ Revan. He hated her even more than he had hated Saul Karath. Saul had destroyed his home, killed his wife, and estranged his son, wiping out everything that made his life worth living. For too many years it had been the thought of watching Saul die that had kept him alive and going. But he hated Revan more, because she had been the one - the only one - who had ever been able to ease that pain... to fill that hole that had been left by the destruction of his former life. He had just begun to feel whole again when she had revealed who she really was. And he had just begun to believe that maybe she _had_ changed her ways when she had turned on him... when she had turned on all of them.

He staggered into the cockpit, grasping the back of the pilot's chair for support. The thought of it all made him sick. She had given him hope, a purpose other than revenge. She had almost built him back up into the man he had used to be before the betrayal of Saul. And then she had taken it all away, shattering all the truths his world relied on and proving him to be a fool. Only a fool would allow himself to be used twice. Only a fool would have fallen for the same tricks.

Carth threw himself into the pilot's chair, hardly noticing the tears that blurred his vision. His fingers worked over the keys on their own accord; his mind was still far away from the duties of piloting. It was his fault Revan now had control of the Star Forge. If he had only acted sooner, when he had first had his doubts about her intentions... none of this would have happened. Revan would now be dead, Jolee and Mission and Zaalbar still alive, the Star Forge destroyed, the Republic victorious at last...

The engines rumbled to life, sending a slight vibration through the floor beneath Carth's feet. He would not hesitate again. If he ever got to Revan he would kill her, and he would take satisfaction from it, just like he had at Saul's death, only her death would be sweeter. But first he had to warn the Republic about the Star Forge, about Revan. They had to know she had betrayed them.

"So there you are, Onasi."

Carth sprang out of the chair, blaster drawn and ready faster than could be seen, and stood facing the black-robed figure casually leaning against the cockpit's doorway. Even his hatred could not cover his surprise at seeing Darth Revan here again, so soon after she had left for the Star Forge. He had not expected her to come back at all. "You!" he snarled, but he wasted no time. His finger tightened on the trigger.

The blaster bolt ricocheted off an unseen barrier just before striking Revan between the eyes, but Carth hardly had time to register this fact before the blaster jerked out of his hand and an invisible force came crushing down on his windpipe. He choked, both hands going to his throat, groping futilely at nothing.

Revan smiled from the doorway, and Carth was overcome with a vehement desire to strangle her even as she was strangling him now. He saw his blaster lying only a few feet away, but it seemed an impossible distance; already a panic was rising in his chest, his head beginning to throb, his ears roaring. He dropped to his knees, gagging in his attempt to breathe.

Revan walked lazily to his side. "I'm surprised you risked coming back to the ship, Carth," she said conversationally, her voice dim beneath the rushing in his ears. "I had thought you would have rather rotted away on this island rather than chance meeting me again."

Carth struggled to reply, but his anger was swiftly fading as the realization dawned that he was dying. Revan's voice seemed to come from far away. He was on his hands and knees, looking at her boots. He wondered vaguely if they had always been so dusty. His lungs were screaming, a vein his temple pulsed frantically.

"I'm sure you thought this ship would offer you escape. But you must understand I cannot allow you to warn the Republic of their impending doom." She knelt beside him, calmly watching him struggle in her vice-like Force grasp. "I've always liked you, Carth. And it's such a shame to kill you. Such hatred within you... if only you were Force sensitive..." She sighed. "But you've had your uses, haven't you? I can safely say that if not for you I would have never been able to reach the Star Forge. I suppose I should thank you."

Carth lunged at her suddenly, rage exploding within him. But in his disoriented state she easily leapt away from him, and he crashed back to the floor. He tried to get up again, but his body felt heavy. He could do nothing but lie there and wait to die. Black crept around the edges of his vision, slowly swallowing up the world, and he tried to fight it. He didn't want to die like this. Not by _her_ hand. Not so helplessly, without offering a challenge...

"Goodbye, Carth."

Her voice echoed in the darkness, and then there was nothing.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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	2. The Silencer

**The Silencer**

Carth awoke abruptly, eyes snapping open only to be blinded by a bright overhead light. He squinted, throwing an arm over his face, and groaned as a dull throbbing in his head finally penetrated his new awareness. He shifted experimentally, immediately recognizing the familiar feel of a starship's med-bay mattress. But his limbs also felt stiff, and he stretched carefully as his eyes finally began to adjust to the lighting.

It was then that he remembered what had happened. He sat bolt upright in the bed, his hand unconsciously reaching for his blaster, but it wasn't there. He looked down to his waist, realizing with dismay that all his weapons were missing. His clothes were gone too. He wore nothing but the form-fitting jumpsuit meant to be used as the underlayer of the more respectable armored suits.

"Exclamation: What a surprise! Statement: I had not expected you to become conscious again so soon, meatbag."

Carth jumped around at the words, knowing who he would see before the profile of the HK-47 assassination droid came into view. Again his hand fell to his hip, instinctively searching for the weapon that just wasn't there. He swore under his breath, clenching his hands into fists, and stood facing the taller droid, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable and distinctly naked.

HK-47's yellow eyes blinked as he spoke. "Statement: You were not supposed to regain consciousness until I had deposited your useless organic body into the slums of Nar Shaddaa."

Carth glanced around the med-bay briefly before bringing his eyes back to the droid. There was no one else in the room. But then… to take on an assassin droid unarmed would be like putting a blaster bolt in your own head. He frowned, only vaguely having heard what the droid was talking about. There was a more important question he had to ask.

"Where's Revan?" he demanded hoarsely, then winced as the effort of speaking strained his bruised throat.

The droid gave what sounded like a noncommittal grunt. "Answer: Not here. Woeful Statement: You are no longer important enough to deserve her personal attention, which is why she has assigned the dreadfully boring task of disposing of you to me, her loyal _assassination_ droid…."

Carth's eyes flicked to the massive repeating blaster rifle the droid clutched in its mechanical hands, wondering if Revan had given it orders to shoot him. But if she had wanted him dead, why hadn't she killed him herself? He put a hand absently to his throat, thinking of how close he had come to death...

"Why didn't she kill me?" The question had left his lips before he could stop it.

HK-47 uttered a weary sigh. "Answer: I do not know. Observation: However I have noticed that my Master shows a rather unusual tolerance toward you over the other meatbags that once followed her. Theory: Perhaps it is because of this most unfortunate patience with you that she was reluctant to end your life."

The droid's eyes brightened suddenly, his tone becoming eager. "Hopeful Proposal: Or perhaps my Master simply meant to prolong your existence so that you could suffer a more horrible death." HK-47 tilted his head slightly to the side. "Statement: I am fully capable of administering several most painful tortures. Question: Perhaps you would like to try and escape so that I may perform such painful tortures on you? Encouragement: I will of course allow you to have a head start. Exclamation: Things are so much more exciting when there's a hunt involved!"

Carth stared at the droid, feeling his insides twist in growing dread. He most definitely did _not_ want to give HK the chance to practice any torture techniques. He had seen some of those techniques at work before, back when he and HK had been on the same side… before Revan had revealed she once again belonged to the Dark Side. He could still hear the screams of HK's victims in his nightmares, and he had no desire in the least to put himself in that situation. He would have to wait… wait until they got to wherever they were going… only then might he have a chance to escape, to go back and find Revan…

"Where… where are we going?" he asked huskily, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

HK's eyes dimmed; the droid was obviously disappointed that Carth had not wanted to accept his offer of torture. "Weary Answer: As I have told you, meatbag, we are going to the moon of Nar Shaddaa. Threat: If you are not going to provide me with any entertainment by attempting to escape, then I must insist you cease your interrogations before I become irritated and accidentally set off my neural pacifier in your direction."

Carth sent the droid a vicious glare but fell silent, resorting to pacing the length of the med-bay. HK watched him, the blaster rifle always ready, the soft whir of the droid's neck servos the only sound in the quiet.

But Carth could not take the silence for long. The frustration gnawed at him like a living thing. "Why Nar Shaddaa?" he blurted suddenly, swinging around to face HK.

The droid's eyes flashed. "Warning Statement: You just asked another question."

"Does that mean you don't know?" Carth grunted, shaking his head in disbelief. "Revan didn't tell you much, did she?"

HK straightened. "Indignant Exclamation: I am no common information terminal, meatbag! Statement: And I am not required to answer any of your questions… you should consider yourself lucky that I have humored you thus far. Statement: But since you are so insistent on getting answers, I will give you one: Revan has ordered you dumped on the smuggler's moon of Nar Shaddaa so that you may live out the remainder of your inefficient organic life in misery, haunted by the things you should have done and didn't, watching as your precious Republic crumbles around you. Statement: Now you know why we head for Nar Shaddaa. Snide Question: Do you feel any better?"

Carth said nothing. It didn't matter whether he was going to the slums of Nar Shaddaa or the richest sector of Coruscant, he wasn't going to stay put there long, no matter what Revan had planned. As soon as his feet hit the ground he'd be off again on the first ship out. Revan wouldn't be hard to find, not now that she had an infinite fleet at her disposal. HK interrupted his thoughts.

"Statement: Of course, I may have forgotten to mention a few conditions of your release…"

Carth had a fleeting notion that something was about to go wrong, but he had not so much as flinched when a narrow blue beam shot from one of HK-47's forearm casings, striking him full in the chest. Every muscle in his body seized painfully, and he dropped unceremoniously to the floor. He lay still, unable to move, and watched as HK's feet approached him. The pain in his muscles began to fade, leaving behind a complete numbness. Had he been able to speak, he would have called the assassination droid a great number of foul names in every language he knew. But his tongue was useless, so he settled for a glare of utmost hatred.

The droid ignored his look, speaking most pleasantly. "Statement: I'm afraid I can't have you conscious when we land, meatbag. Statement: I believe we are on the final approach to the moon now, which means it is nearly time for me to render you insensible once more. Thought: However, I do think there is enough time for me to experiment with a prototype torture device Revan has just recently upgraded into my system. Statement: I have lovingly dubbed it "The Silencer", as it tends to cause pain above the normal human tolerance level, rendering the victim blessedly mute. Statement: My audio receivers _are_ sometimes overloaded by the volume of the human voice, especially when involved in screams of agony, and that is such a disappointment to me. Statement: I'm sure you will understand my desire to test it adequately."

Carth's glare did not waver, but he vowed at that moment he would see HK-47 a smoking pile of scrap before he died.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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	3. The Smuggler's Moon

**The Smuggler's Moon**

Carth slowly drifted into consciousness. His whole body tingled. There was a hard, cold surface beneath him and harsh whispers above him. The smell nearly made him gag.

"…check the pockets!"

"…something on the belt…"

"…this is worthless! We're wasting our time!"

Carth struggled to pull his mind from the fog that clouded his thoughts. Where was he? What had happened? What the hell were they talking about? He felt hands patting at his neckline, his shoulders, his ribs, his waist, his legs. He opened his eyes grudgingly, they felt grainy and swollen. He had to blink several times before he could focus on the figures that crouched over him. He saw three young males: a Rodian, a Twi'lek, and a human. All three seemed to be looking for something. And all at once Carth understood: he was being robbed.

With a massive effort he heaved himself into a sitting position, and the three youths jumped backwards, muttering severalcurses in surprise. The Rodian recovered the fastest; in the next instant Carth found a vibro-shiv held dangerously close to his neck.

"You no move, human, or I slit throat for you, understand?"

Carth did not reply. Under normal circumstances he would have been able to easily handle these criminals, even without armor and weapons, but as it was the motion of just sitting up had made him feel ill. He couldn't have put up a fight at this point even if his life had depended on it. He eyed the Rodian warily, hoping his life _didn't_ depend on it….

"Give us you money, human," the Rodian demanded, the antennae atop his head twitching.

"I don't think he has any," the human commented.

"No money?" the Twi'lek repeated, eyeing Carth suspiciously. "What human carries no money?"

"Me," Carth croaked, wincing as he spoke. His throat felt raw, though he couldn't think of why, and his mouth was very dry. At the moment he would have gladly given over his money for some water. "I... lost it… lost it at Pazaak." He thought it was a lie – though he really couldn't be completely sure – and maybe they would leave him alone if he convinced them he had nothing of value.

All three of them erupted in laughter. "That is very human of you!" the Rodian exclaimed between his chuckles. "Our friend Ahlan has Pazaak problem too!"

"Shut up, Ordan!" the human snarled, his laughter cut short,shooting his companion a deadly glare.

Carth looked from one to the other, but the argument seemed to be over. The Rodian returned his huge black eyes to Carth. "You better have something to give us, human, or why else we keep you alive?"

There was a short, tense silence.

"Here's something."

All eyes turned to the human thief, who held a small belt pouch in his hands. Carth assumed it had come from his belt, although he had to admit it didn't look familiar.

"What is it?" the Rodian asked eagerly.

"I… I'm not sure," Ahlan said. He held the object in his palm, and Carth saw a small crystal cube. There was another silence as they all stared at it, and then suddenly the cube seemed to light up. Ahlan yelped in fear and dropped it hastily; it clattered across the dirty permacrete and came to rest on one side. It glimmered for a moment, and then a small hologram erupted from the top of it.

Carth reached out and snatched up the device, holding it in his fingers and staring at the miniature figure of Darth Revan hovering in the air before him. Even as a hologram she had a presence that induced awe and fear; the three thieves watched in rapt attention, mouths hanging open.

"Hello, Carth," Revan's hologram said pleasantly, and she smiled almost kindly. The sound of her voice sent an odd emotion through him, something like a mix between rage and longing. "If you are hearing this it means that HK has successfully escorted you to the moon of Nar Shaddaa. Perhaps HK has enlightened you with the reasons I sent you there, perhaps not. It doesn't really matter. I have left you only with the clothes you now wear and this holocube. You are a resourceful man; I believe you've found your way out of worse situations." She smiled again; Carth's grip on the holocube tightened until his knuckles turned white. "Revenge is what you know, Carth. It's been your reason for living for so long now, you'd be lost without it. So… I've given you purpose again, now that your Republic fleet has no more use for you… now that Saul is dead. And I fully expect to see you again, Carth. I will not be so easy to destroy as Saul was," she leaned forward, the yellow eyes seeming to stare straight into his mind, a predatory-like smile playing about her lips,"…but you can certainly try." She straightened again, folding her arms across her chest, and then her image winked out, the cube going dark.

A moment of silence passed in the hologram's wake. And then the Twi'lek made to grab the cube from Carth's hand. He reacted without thinking; his free hand swept across his body, catching Ordan's hand holding the vibro-shiv and shoving the blade into the Rodian's own chest. The alien squawked in pain and fell backwards. Carth surged to his feet, his fist connecting with the Twi'lek's nose. There was the crunch of bone and the Twi'lek reeled away, hands over his face, blood oozing between his fingers.

Carth whirled to face the last thief, but the kid shrieked and turned to run. Carth caught his shirt and pulled him around, throwing the young man to the ground. Ahlan lifted his hands to his shoulders, looking up at Carth with terrified eyes. "I'm sorry!" the kid blurted quickly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please - please don't kill me! Here… take my money!" He emptied his pockets with shaking hands, throwing the credits at Carth's feet.

Carth stood motionless for a minute, suddenly struck by how much Ahlan looked like his own son Dustil. He willed away the tears that suddenly bit into the backs of his eyes. "Get up," he ordered gruffly. "I don't want your money." He noticed the small hold-out blaster on the kid's belt. "Give me your gun, take your money and get out of here. And leave people alone."

Ahlan nodded frantically, throwing his entire gun belt at Carth. He grabbed a few handfuls of the credits he had scattered and took off running down a narrow side alley, disappearing into the shadows. Carth looked around; the Twi'lek and Rodian had long since vanished, leaving only a few splattered drops of blood behind them. He exhaled a great breath, his whole body shaking, and sank down to his hands and knees. His muscles tingled again; nausea rolled through his stomach and he clenched his jaw against being sick. He remembered now… Revan's hologram had seen to that. He studied the small, crystalline cube in his hand.

This sickness he felt… it had to be the result of that cursed droid's torture device. Either that or the side effects of some drug meant to keep him unconscious for a specific amount of time… time enough for HK to disappear and get off-planet again. Carth gritted his teeth, suppressing a moan. He could only recall the first blast from HK's beloved "Silencer", everything afterwards was blank. Then he had woken up here to the warm welcome of teenage thieves.

_She thinks I'm resourceful, does she?_ He squeezed the holocube in his fist until its sharp sides cut painfully into his skin. He would get off this planet, somehow... he would find her. And while he watched her die, at last he'd see the end of that sickening smirk.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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**Note:** _vibro-shiv_ a "pocket" version of the vibroblade. 


	4. Confessions

**Confessions**

Revan stood at one of the massive observation windows in the Command Center of the Star Forge, looking out at the never-ending stream of battle-ready starships that poured from the factory's production bay, and smiled. The Republic didn't have a chance.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She could almost taste the Dark Side in the air. It flowed all through this place; through her, through the starships and droids, through the people that scurried about the corridors carrying out her orders. The power of it, the strength of it, gave her goosebumps. Only one other place had been as strong in the Dark Side as this… the place that had been responsible for her initial embrace of the Dark Side… the Trayus Academy on Malachor V.

So much had happened there, and so much had happened since then. She had endured much to reach this point in time, and she was determined not to fail. Not when she had at last come this far, this close….

She turned to look at her apprentice Bastila Shan, who also stood gazing out the window at the Infinite Fleet. Another smile passed across Revan's features. Bastila's talent at Battle Meditation would be invaluable during the upcoming battles. If there was one thing the fool Malak had done right during his short reign as Lord of the Sith, it was successfully converting Bastila to the Dark Side.

In fact, out of all those she had met during her time of modified memory, there was only one who had disappointed her in the end: Carth Onasi. The Republic soldier. He had always been a goody-goody. But she had thought that maybe, given his war experience, given his guilt over the people he had killed and his hatred of Saul… maybe he could be changed, convinced to see as she did. But she had been wrong. Even at the end, when he witnessed for himself the power of the Dark Side and saw those who had defied her die, he had refused to join her. The values of the Republic had been deeply engraved in him, and Revan knew now that he would not be so easily broken. He was blindly loyal to the Republic, an annoying trait, but one that could be wiped out. Eventually.

He just needed time to think about things, to see that his Republic was not as infallible as he had been taught to believe, and that she was not as evil as he had been taught to believe. She had no doubt that someday he would realize the truth, and then he would understand. He would understand why she had done what she had.

As if her thoughts had cued it, the Command Center's door whirred open, and in the reflection of the window Revan saw HK-47 stroll in, his feet clanking loudly on the metal grating of the entrance way. Revan turned to face the droid, clasping her hands behind her back. She nodded to him in acknowledgement. "HK."

"Acknowledgement: I have returned, Master." The droid came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her. "Statement: I have done as you asked, Master; the meatbag Carth Onasi has been deposited on the moon of Nar Shaddaa."

"Well done, HK. Did he give you any trouble?"

The droid sighed. "Answer: Alas, he did not, my Master. Statement: However, I was able to find the opportunity to use him as a test subject for my newest upgrade, the Silencer. Comment: I must say the device works wonderfully, Master. Flattery: Your programming skills are unparalleled."

Revan graced the droid with a smile. "Thank you, HK. I'm glad you think so." She had to admit the device had been one of her more ingenious inventions. It was also one of the most deadly. The pain it inflicted often caused permanent bodily damage. She peered at the assassination droid. "You didn't… damage him, did you?"

HK's eyes flickered. "Appeasement: Oh no, Master! Comment: Damaging him would have gone against your orders, and as you are my Master I must follow your orders. Statement: I carefully monitored the intensity of the device to avoid causing him any permanent damage to his weak organic structure."

"Good. Very good." Torture at HK's hands would only serve to feed Carth's anger, something he would need if he was to survive Nar Shaddaa. As long as the soldier wasn't irreversibly hurt, HK's lust for causing pain wouldn't interfere with her plans.

"Comment: While testing the device, I stumbled across one of its properties that we were currently unaware of."

Revan's eyebrows lifted. This sounded interesting. "And what property would that be?"

HK's eyes brightened considerably. "Answer: It seems that if the device is used at a lower setting than you originally intended – a setting which inflicts no tissue damage – it does not silence the victim, in effect, but instead breaks down their cognitive barriers, causing them to babble incessantly about all manner of things."

Revan blinked, unsure of whether this property should be classified as an advantage or disadvantage to the device. "What… exactly do you mean?"

"Clarification: It will cause the victim to give a confession, Master. Explanation: It seems the victim is completely unaware of what they are saying, they merely repeat the thoughts, feelings, and memories stored in their brain."

Revan's eyebrows shot up again. "Fascinating." She decided to classify this new property as a definite advantage. Already a list of potential victims began to compile in her head, and she nearly got dizzy thinking of all the things she could learn by using the Silencer.

"Agreement: Indeed, Master. Statement: And the repetitions can be manipulated by asking the victim questions, negating the necessity of listening to hours of useless recollections in order to get to your area of interest."

"This is an excellent discovery, HK. Excellent."

"Acknowledgement: Thank you, Master."

"Did you gather anything useful from Onasi's confession?"

"Answer: I collected much useful information, Master. Statement: As soon as I realized the full potential of the meatbag's mutterings, I began recording them." HK's left forearm casing popped open, revealing a small hand-held voice recorder. The droid disconnected it from its holdings and ascended the stairs, offering the recorder to Revan. "Statement: There were many interesting military strategies he spoke of, Master."

"Those could be useful against the Republic," Revan said, taking the recorder from HK and slipping it into a pocket of her robes. She would have to listen to that soon… the thought of being able to learn Carth's innermost thoughts without him even knowing it brought her a most satisfying feeling.

"Comment: There was something else the meatbag mentioned that you might find interesting, Master."

"Indeed? And what would that be?"

"Answer: It seems that even with his knowledge of the miserable life and slow, horrible death you have planned for him, he still harbors strong feelings of love for you, and a fierce sense of protectiveness as well."

Revan looked at HK for a moment, then turned away and went back to the window, again watching the endless number of ships coming out of the bay. "Does he?" But she did not require an answer. Her hand slipped into her robe pocket, her fingers curling around the voice recorder. She had known that he had once loved her, when she had been Moriel Ithilio…before she had realized her true identity. Afterwards she had tried to use his love for her to manipulate him, to draw him closer to her, so that when the time came for her to reassume the title of Dark Lord he would follow her. But as soon as she had revealed her true name he had begun to pull away, to distance himself. It had been difficult enough to get him to trust her as Moriel… it was nearly impossible to gain his trust as Revan. In the end his love for her had not been enough for him to cross that line he had created in his mind.

And she resented him for that.

Her hand tightened around the voice recorder. "You have done very well, HK. I believe there is a prisoner in custody on level four. You may go torture him. Let me know if he says anything useful."

The droid straightened eagerly. "Exclamation: Oh thank you, Master! Statement: I shall see to it right away and report back immediately with his confession." HK turned and quickly descended the stairs, leaving the Command Center almost at a run.

Revan listened to the fading footsteps and the soft whir as the door closed, but her thoughts had already moved on. Carth still loved her. Interesting, indeed. And foolish on his part, but she could not deny the fact this news pleased her. Perhaps she could still use that method of persuasion after all. But first… first he had to suffer. He had hurt her… betrayed her… and she could not let that go unpunished.

Beside her, Bastila cleared her throat, drawing Revan from her thoughts. The Dark Lord turned to look at her apprentice. "Yes, Bastila?"

"Master… if he still has feelings for you…" the young woman trailed off, hesitating.

"It will be his undoing," Revan supplied. "I'll make sure of that."

"But Master, forgive me… why keep him alive? Why try and bring him here? He has no Force powers; we know that, what use could he be to us? Why not just kill him now and be rid of him?"

Revan was silent for a long moment. How to explain to her apprentice that it was no longer about converting Carth for his skills? That had ceased to be the reason the moment he had first refused to follow her. It was personal now. She would convert Carth because he had proven she did not have the control over him she had thought she had. She didn't like being fooled. But these were things Bastila didn't need to know.

Revan smiled lightly. "Carth will still have his uses, Bastila. You will see."

Bastila dropped her gaze to the floor and nodded. "Yes, Master." She turned to look back out the window at the stretching stars. "Do you think he will really come to find you?"

Revan folded her arms into the sleeves of her robe. "Oh yes. He will find me, I'm sure of it. All we need do is wait."

"Yes, Master," Bastila whispered.

Below them the Infinite Fleet went on as far as the stars.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

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	5. Vogga the Hutt

**Author's Note:** If there is ever a conversation that is conducted in a language other than Galactic Basic, I will mention the language being spoken the first time it is spoken. The rest of the conversation following should be taken to all be in that language until it is mentioned again that Basic is being used. Sorry if that's confusing, I thought it would be easier than actually having to looking up all the languages, if there even is a way to do that. If there's going to be a long conversation in a language other than Basic I will put the dialog in parenthesis (like this) so that you are able to easily tell what's being said in the foreign language. Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Vogga the Hutt**

The rain came down so hard that Carth felt more like he was swimming than running. He ducked his head against the onslaught of water, splashing through the small rivers that coursed over the pavement and trying not to notice the various debris that carried along in the currents. He preferred not to know what most of it was….

By the time he reached the Docking Sector he had been completely soaked. He gave up on trying to outrun the rain and slowed to a walk, squinting through the steady curtain of water to try and determine which door he wanted.

He had been trapped on Nar Shaddaa for a month now, and he didn't want to be stuck here any longer. But to get off-world he needed a ship, and to get a ship he needed money. And that had been his real problem. Revan had most conveniently – and surely purposefully – dropped him in the Refugee Sector, the poorest and most miserable sector on the whole of the moon. He had spent what few credits he'd picked up from Ahlan the thiefwithin his first week, and after that… he had hardly managed to scrape up enough credits to eat, much less do anything else.

He had met a few people in the Refugee Sector, some honest, some not so honest, who had been willing to help him out, but he had refused all offered aid. He wasn't going to get involved with anyone unless it was a professional contract. He wouldn't take any chances this time. He didn't want to owe anyone or have anyone owe him. He would do this alone.

Of course, that had meant sleeping on the sidewalk, which was very uncomfortable… and dangerous. He had been mugged nine nights in a row before the word finally got around to the sector's lowlifes that he wasn't one to mess with. Still, establishing a reputation had cost him: a vibro-shiv across the face had given him a pretty good scar, and there was still a nasty cut across his right forearm that refused to heal properly. He also was in desperate need of some new clothes; this rain was about the best shower he'd had since coming here.

He had tried for several different jobs already, but it seemed no one wanted to hire someone from the Refugee Sector. Carth had grown increasingly desperate; he had even reached the point of considering applying for some very unsavory duties. But then he had heard of Fassa, the Dock Master, who worked for Vogga the Hutt. Talk on the street said that Vogga was always looking for some freighter pilots, and if you could fly, Fassa was the one to talk to.

And so Carth found himself in the Docking Sector, looking about wildly for the Dock Master's quarters. He found the door at last, marked with some words in the Twi'lek language, and pounded his fist on the pitted metal. Then he stepped back and waited.

The only sound was the rain beating against the buildings and the streets, a constant roar that seemed to fill Carth's head. The door before him remained shut.

Carth swore fluently, stepping forward and ramming on the door as hard as he could. He was _going _to talk to Fassa…

The door opened suddenly, revealing a green Twi'lek holding a blaster aimed right at Carth's nose. "Who are you, and why are you banging on my door?" the Twi'lek asked in Basic, his blue eyes coldly wondering over Carth's bedraggled form.

Carth straightened, then pushed his wet hair out of his face. "I'm Carth Onasi," he said hoarsely. "A pilot. I'm looking for Fassa."

The Twi'lek's eyes narrowed. "I'm Fassa. You're a pilot are you? Look more like a spice addict."

Carth scowled. "Yah I've had a hard month, all right? But I _am_ a pilot, and I heard you need pilots. I want a job."

The Twi'lek grinned, showing off his neat rows of pointed teeth. "A job, eh?" He only halfway restrained a laugh. "I see. And what is your sad story? Impulsive gambler who lost his ship in a rash bet? Refugee who lost his family in the wars and now has nothing left? Captain who's crew mutinied and left him for dead in this slime pit? Take your pick, I've heard them all before. They all come to Fassa. They all think I can solve their problems."

Carth glared at the Twi'lek. "Do you need pilots or not?"

Fassa took his time in answering, clearly enjoying his position of power, and Carth stood in the pouring rain, barely controlling the urge to draw his own blaster and hurry along this process.

"Yes, we are in need of pilots," the Twi'lek finally said. "But only real pilots. No skiff handlers or swoop jocks. Have you flown any big ships?"

Carth snorted. "Of course I have. I fought with the Republic during the Mandalorian Wars; I've piloted everything from a star fighter to a war cruiser-"

"The Republic?" Fassa interjected curiously. "Then what, I wonder, are you doing stuck here on Nar Shaddaa?"

Carth stared the Twi'lek, feeling suddenly as if his throat had closed in upon itself. Even if he had thought Fassa would believe his story, he didn't want to tell it. Not to the Twi'lek, not to anyone.

"I see," Fassa said quietly after a moment, breaking the silence. "Don't want to talk about it. Did something bad, eh? A deserter, perhaps? Murderer of children? Or maybe just a sore loser. News of the Republic's most recent defeat has reached us even here. I must say I am not particularly disheartened by it… Revan defeated the Mandalorians, surely she would be a better leader than the Republic's politicians?"

"The job," Carth growled, his hands clenched into painfully tight fists. "Yes or no?"

The Twi'lek peered at him. "I will take you to see Vogga. He will decide yes or no."

Carth released a breath, his knotted muscles somewhat relaxing. "Thank you."

Fassa grunted. "Don't thank me yet, flyboy. Vogga might just tell you no. Meet me here tomorrow, two hours after sunrise."

"T-tomorrow?" Carth stammered, disheartened at the fact he might have to spend yet another night on the sidewalk.

Fassa grinned again. "Of course. It's raining, and I'm busy. You're desperate, aren't you? You'll be here tomorrow. Until then… good night."

The door shut in Carth's face, leaving him staring at nothing, wet and cold and alone. He stood there for a minute longer, until at last he turned away from Fassa's door and trudged back in the direction of the Refugee Sector.

* * *

Three hours after sunrise the next day, Carth found himself standing in the audience chamber of Vogga the Hutt's compound, surrounded by an odd collection of guards, slaves, and guests. Fassa stood behind him to his right, a Gamorrean behind him to his left. Two kath hounds sat idly at either side of Vogga's dais, and a very visible blue female Twi'lek stood in the back of the room, eyeing Carth in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable. 

He tried to keep his eyes on the Hutt in front of him, but Vogga wasn't much more pleasant to look at than any of his cohorts. Carth had never liked Hutts, and the thought of actually working for one made him feel slightly ill. But if that was the only way to earn some credits then so be it. He needed off this rock, and the sooner the better.

Fassa shouldered past him suddenly, and Carth glared at the Twi'lek's back as thelekku-laden alienbowed before the Hutt. "My lord Vogga," Fassa began in Huttese. "I have brought a human who wishes to pilot for your Excellency." He swept a long-fingered hand in Carth's direction. "He is a former Republic pilot, and assures me he has piloted many variations of large starships in the past."

_Former Republic pilot..._ Carth despised the title, but didn't argue it. As far as he was concerned, he was still a Republic pilot, a Republic soldier, and would be until the day he formerly retired from the ranks. Given his situation, however, he thought it wiser to hold his tongue.

Vogga gave a low rumble, his slitted eyes rolling to look in Carth's direction. "Do you speak Huttese?"

Carth nodded once. "Yes," he answered back, also speaking in Huttese in the hopes he could impress the giant slug.

The Hutt rumbled again. "You will sign a contract?"

Carth shifted on his feet. "Perhaps if I knew the terms of the contract…"

Vogga blinked his heavy-lidded eyes. "You will stay at least one year. Three hundred credits a month dependent on successful delivery of cargo. Agreement to accept punishment if you are caught stealing cargo, if you lose cargo to pirates, thieves, or Republic regulatory patrols, or if you try to steal my frieghter."

Carth's mouth fell open."Are you serious?" He blurted the question before he could stop himself.

The Hutt merely looked at him. Carth glanced around to the others in the audience chamber; they watched him with a hawk-like gaze, like carrion fowl waiting to pounce on their prey. He turned back to Vogga. One whole year… that was a long time… far too long… "Three hundred credits a month?" he sputtered, not knowing exactly which part of this contract was worse. "That's hardly worth my time!"

Vogga drew himself up, his eyes narrowing. "If you do not agree to my terms, we have no more business to discuss."

Carth stood angrily in indecision. This was ridiculous. He could hardly afford to accept this offer, and yet he couldn't really afford to refuse it either…

"Pardon, my lord," Fassa spoke up, giving another bow to Vogga. "But might we have another job to offer this human? The one of your sister Velga…?"

Vogga's eyes lit up at this statement, and he gave a great harrumph of pleasure. "Indeed, Fassa. Indeed." The Hutt looked down to Carth once more. "If my contract is so distasteful to you, perhaps you would consider that of my sister. She is in need of a male pleasure slave. I'm sure she would pay very well." A smile spread across the Hutt's wide mouth.

Carth swallowed, feeling a flush crawl up his neck as the others in the audience chamber chuckled, sharing in their own private joke. The female Twi'lek's giggle was especially disturbing. He took a step backwards and ran into the Gamorrean, who gave a low grunt and pushed him forward again. Carth cast an uneasy glance around the chamber. He noticed the various aliens had moved closer, enclosing him within their circle.

He cleared his throat, trying not to let them see they had unnerved him. "I… I don't think I'm interested in Velga's offer, thanks."

"No?" Vogga curled his fat tail. "Shame. I think my sister would have liked you…"

Fassa stepped forward again. "But my lord, your sister'sbirth date approaches, does it not? Would the human not make an excellent gift in honor of such an important day?"

Carth shot the Twi'lek a startled look, but Fassa paid no attention.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Vogga exclaimed, his bulbous eyes widening so far Carth thought they might just pop out of his skull. "But you are correct again, Fassa. My sister would be pleased with him. She would offer a great deal to me in return for such a gift…" The Hutt's eyes came to rest on Carth again, this time alight with a hungry gleam the Republic soldier found frightening.

"I… I, uh…" Carth backed away from the Hutt's advancing goons, his hand dropping toward his blaster. "I think you may have misunderstood me…"

"Of course, if you were working for me," Vogga said innocently, "I would gain nothing by sending you to my sister. And my protection would make you immune to the raids of other slavers. _If_ you were working for me…"

Carth felt as if a brick had dropped into his stomach. So that was it. It was a set up, a way to force him into accepting the contract and working for Vogga whether he wanted to or not. He didn't have a choice… he'd never had a choice. His hand fell away from his blaster in resignation. "I see," he croaked. "In that case…" A bitter taste rose to his mouth. "In that case I accept the terms of your contract."

"Excellent!" Vogga beamed, his tail slithering around on the dais like a giant snake. "I must say your decision pleases me. I would have liked to have surprised my sister, but decent pilots are in short supply these days." The Hutt lifted one stubby arm. "Fassa! Bring the paperwork for my newest acquisition!"

Carth said nothing, keeping his eyes on the floor and trying to ignore the fact it suddenly felt as if very heavy chains had been fastenedaround his ankles.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *

**Note:** Chapter 6 will be posted on 09/28/05 afternoon. Thanks! 


	6. Bad Company

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry I was not able to post this chapter on the 28th like I had said... our Internet has been veryuncooperative lately and every time I tried to post it the Internet was down or server was overloaded. But here it is, finally... (it's a really short one, unfortunately...)

* * *

**Bad Company**

Carth sat glumly at the bar in the cantina he now frequented, staring blankly at the blue liquid that fizzed in his glass. His right index finger traced absently around the lip of the schooner; he hadn't so much as taken a sip since he'd sat down. The blaze of color and movement around him had become no more than background noise, he was so used to the clamor of this cantina that nothing short of blaster fire could pull his attention away from his drink these days. But drinking was not usually why he came here. No, it was more of a place to get lost, to forget… or to remember. It was also his best source of information about went on outside of Nar Shaddaa; often the news that circulated the cantina was far more detailed and reliable than that found on the local broadcast HoloNet.

But tonight Carth wasn't listening to the animated conversations going on around him. Tonight he _had_ come to drink, to get drunk. He had only wanted to drown his misery in some good ale, to forget for just a few hours that tomorrow he would have to wake up in the same slime pit and go about flying the same junk heap of a ship for that cursed fat slug.

He ran a hand over his bleary eyes, but just kept staring at his drink. Why wasn't he drinking it? He wasn't quite sure. He just sat there, not listening, not even thinking. Just sitting.

Another cantina patron suddenly came up to the bar stool next to him and settled themselves onto it heavily, calling to the bartender for his drink of choice. Carth probably would have let this incidence slip by his awareness like everything else that night, except that he acutely recognized the voice. He glanced sideways and felt a scowl twist his features as his sight confirmed his hearing.

"Greetings, Onasi," Fassa said cheerfully, scooping up his goblet as soon as the bartender had set it down and taking a rather large swig. "What's wrong, don't like your drink?" The Twi'lek looked suspiciously at the liquid still bubbling in the human's glass.

"No," Carth growled, "I don't like the company." He turned away from the green-skinned alien, glancing about the rest of the cantina, scanning hopefully for another empty seat, one that would take him away from Fassa.

But the Twi'lek only chuckled at Carth's snide comment. "Now, now. No need to be harsh. You were sitting alone; I thought I might come join you."

Carth turned his head to fix Fassa with a glare. "You bother me enough at the docks, do you have to follow me here, too?"

Fassa smiled his toothy grin, sidling a bit closer to Carth's stool and leaning inwards conspiratorially. "But Carth, my boy, I have noticed you always sit alone. Do you not have a female companion somewhere who could join you?"

Carth grunted, getting up from his stool and grabbing his drink. He excused his way through several standing groups of people, hoping to lose the nosey Twi'lek amid their numbers, but when he emerged on the other side near the Pazaak tables, Fassa was already there waiting for him. Carth switched directions hastily, but Fassa had already seen him and was quickly at his elbow again.

"Very well, Onasi," the Twi'lek sighed wearily, "I will forego the conversational chatter. I'm here to remind you about the terms of your contract-"

Carth stopped abruptly, rounding on Fassa, and the Twi'lek nearly spilled the remainder of his drink all over his shirtfront. "I know the contract," Carth bit off, thoroughly sick of being reminded before every single delivery. "I've been working for you and Vogga for almost a year now, I think I know the terms-"

"Yes, but I'm specifically talking of the line regarding stealing one of Vogga's ships," Fassa interrupted calmly, although the subtle warning could not be missed.

The words died in Carth's throat, his anger faltering. They had never brought up _that_ one before. He had thought of committing the act at least a hundred times since Vogga had first hired him, but rumors of what happened to pilots who attempted such things had been enough to dissuade him, at least for the time being. Why would Fassa mention it now…?

He managed to half-fake a disbelieving snort. "Steal the ship? If I had wanted to steal Vogga's ship, wouldn't I have done it by now?"

Fassa tilted his head slightly, meeting Carth's eyes in an open challenge. "Maybe. But maybe not. You want out; I can see it in your eyes. You're like a caged animal, Onasi, always pacing the bars, testing the strength of your leash, waiting for your opportunity to break free at last. Perhaps waiting for the moment when you can turn on your keepers."

Carth held the Twi'lek's gaze for a few seconds, but then he dropped his eyes to the floor, hoping maybe Fassa wouldn't see how true that analogy really was. He opened his mouth to offer an assurance of some kind, a promise perhaps, that he wasn't going to steal a ship, but the words got stuck in his throat. Instead he lifted his glass and gave Fassa a nod as if in toast, then gulped down half his drink.

Fassa smiled good-naturedly and raised in own goblet in a return toast. "I'm glad you understand. You're a good pilot, Onasi; the best in Vogga's employ. You're contract's almost over. It would be a shame for you to lose your nerve so close to the end."

Carth eyed the Twi'lek warily, an uncomfortable feeling beginning to gnaw at his insides. This was starting to feel like a set up, just like the day Vogga had first hired him and he had been forced into accepting the less-than-desirable terms of the Hutt's piloting contract. "I'll finish my contract," Carth said quietly, carefully, still searching Fassa's face for some sign of deception. "But then I'm leaving. Understand?"

"Oh, of course," Fassa said easily, waving away Carth's concerns with a flippant gesture. "I merely wished to warn you about committing any rash action."

"Don't worry about it," Carth said. "I'm not stupid."

Fassa chuckled, patting Carth on the shoulder as if they were old friends. "No, no, of course you aren't. Very good then, I'll see you at the docks." He turned to leave, then seemed to remember something and turned back. "Oh yes, if you ever get tired of being alone duringthese nightly outings of yours, Aayla is always waiting for you. And maybe you'll consider entertaining her sometime, yes? I grow so very tired of listening to her whine about how you refuse all of her advances." Fassa gave Carth's arm another pat and disappeared into the crowds around the Pazaak tables.

Carth closed his eyes, trying to regather his wits. Aayla was another thing he didn't want to think about. The overly flirtatious female Twi'lek had been hounding him since the day she'd first laid eyes on him in Vogga's audience chamber. To say that he would be very glad to get away from her would be a gross understatement, and he most certainly would never consider "entertaining" her, no matter what Fassa threatened to do to him.

He sighed heavily, opening his eyes again and draining the last of the ale from his glass. He glanced to the flickering chrono on the far wall. There was still time. Still time to get drunk and forget the conversation with Fassa had ever happened.

He went to get another ale.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	7. Prophecies

**A/N: **Sorry it took so long to post this chapter... I got very busy with school and totally forgot that I hadn't updated this fic yet, even though I had this chapter finished quite a while ago. I am desperately in need of a beta for this story, so if anyone is interested please email me. I need someone who is reliable (as in, will consistently be able to beta the chapters in a timely manner) and who will not hesitate to give comments and constructive criticism. Thanks ahead of time to anyone who might be able to help me out! Hope you enjoy this chapter! More should be following shortly.

* * *

**Prophecies**

Revan sat in the pilot's seat of the _Ebon Hawk_, watching out the viewport as her fleet took up an offensive position around the planet of Dantooine. She preferred to oversee her planetary conquests from within the freighter; not only because her enemies would never think the Dark Lord to be on such an insignificant ship, but because it reminded her of the Jedi Council's treachery and why she had come to Dantooine in the first place.

The audacity of the Council both amused and enraged her. When she had still been a Jedi they had preached about staying out of the Mandalorian Wars, about utilizing patience instead of violence. They had condemned her when she had left for war and labeled her a traitor and an outcast. But she had learned much during that war, and after she'd discovered the Trayus Academy below the surface of Malachor V, she had returned to them stronger and more powerful than they ever could have imagined. And that had frightened them.

They had not hesitated to fight then. They had not hesitated to use violence. They had risen up against her because she represented a dark stain on their precious Order, a stain that had to be wiped away before too many outsiders noticed that the Jedi Order had once again fractured. Revan smiled. She supposed she had been a very persistent stain…

She had not yet forgiven the Council for using her to try and get to the Star Forge. She didn't think she ever would. The hypocrites. The cowards. They had seen the change within her when she had come back from the Outer Rim; they had seen the potential in finding the source of her conversion. They had acted out of greed… greed for control, for power… the very things they taught their Padawans to avoid. They had claimed they wanted to destroy the Star Forge, but Revanknew that would never have happened. Not once they had found it. Not once they had felt its presence, tasted its power….

The fact that they had been so quick to judge her when she had left for the Mandalorian Wars, that afterwards they had been so quick to use her for their own purposes, and then had the gall to believe she might forgive them and rejoin their ranks – that was what made Revan hate the Jedi. She despised them for their lies, their pride, their narrowmindedness.

And that was why she was here. To finish her unfinished business with the Council. But she would not only destroy them, she would break them. They had destroyed her mind once; she felt it only fair to return the favor. Already her specially trained Elite assassins had reached the planet's surface. They would be preparing to enter the Jedi Enclave even now, and Revan had no doubt her soldiers would return to the Star Forge with more than a few Jedi Master captives. Such a thought made her very happy.

She sat back in the seat, watching as a few feeble orbital turrent blasts shot from Dantooine's surface and splashed harmlessly against her gunships' shields. She expected a Republic fleet would arrive within the hour; it was customary for them to send a few ships every time she came to take over a planet. They never really put up much of a fight, but Revan supposed the Republic wanted to at least look like it was trying to stop her. And she had no doubt they _were_ trying to stop her… but their resources were not as endless as hers, and the whole of the Republic fleet had been severely diminished during the past year. She supposed they were saving the majority of their ships for the time when she would move toward the Core worlds.

She sighed, delaying the order to attack. She wanted to wait until the Republic fleet arrived. It was always better to destroy a few of their ships during the planetary onslaught, and she found it dampened the Republic's morale if their soldiers could see the destruction caused by her fleet firsthand.

Revan pulled HK's detached voice recorder out of the folds of her robe and turned it over in her hands absently. She had kept the recording of Carth's confession, though she didn't always understand why she carried it around with her. She had listened to it many times already, often to fill the time before an attack on the Republic. She liked to refresh herself on the military strategy he had spoken about. And… she liked hearing him admit his feelings for her. It was nice to know she still had some influence over him, whether he consciously realized it or not.

She glanced around the cockpit. She was not alone on the ship, but it felt empty. She had left Bastila on the Star Forge to keep an eye on things in her absence. Canderous had been appointed to a small fleet and sent to keep order on the Outer Rim worlds she had already conquered. HK-47 was out hunting, as usual… tracking down a few select people she had labeled important enough to assassinate individually. T3 the utility droid had remained with her on the _Ebon Hawk_, along with a few Elite Sith soldiers she had hand-picked herself and Kreia, one of her old Jedi Masters.

But Kreia was no longer a Jedi. The old woman had gone to fight in the Mandalorian Wars as well, and as a result had been exiled from the Order. She had also been the one blamed for Revan's turn to the Dark Side, and for this the Council had cut her off from the Force completely. How the woman had survived such a punishment was beyond Revan's comprehension, but it had certainly only fueled Kreia's hate for the Order… and for the Force itself.

The woman had insisted on coming along for this conquest, she wished to see the Council fall just as badly as Revan. They only had to wait for the arrival of the Republic fleet to set things in motion.

Revan set the voice recorder on the bulkhead in front of her and pressed the button that read 'PLAYBACK'. There was a burst of static and a string of incomprehensible words, and then Carth's husky voice filled the silence of the cockpit.

"I don't know why she... such a stubborn... never let things go... questions, always had questions... why did she have to...? …I don't understand... I thought she... I would have... I would have died for her... if only..."

He lapsed into jumbled murmurings again, but then his voice changed, becoming clearer and sharper as he recited: "...flagship at the front… gunships flanking… cruisers at the rear… fighters will try to come around… horseshoe the enemy… full compliment of officers on the flagship, only half on the gunships… formation will hold, won't scatter…"

Revan's thoughts drifted, carried along by the monotonous drone of Carth's words.

She was startled out of her reverie by a ripple in the Force: Kreia approached the cockpit. Revan reached forward and stopped the recorder's playback just as a soft knock came from the doorway. "Enter," she said at once.

The gray-haired woman came to stand behind the copilot's chair, the soft swish of her cloak loud in the quiet. The gnarled fingers gripped the back of the seat, and though Revan did not turn from the viewport, she could feel the heat of Kreia's sightless eyes on the side of her face.

"You should destroy that," Kreia stated simply in her low, throaty voice, nodding her head toward the voice recorder. "It does you no good to listen to him anymore."

Revan picked the small device from the bulkhead, holding it gently in her fingers. "It occupies me," she replied, just as simply.

Kreia snorted derisively. "If that is your excuse, it is a lame one."

At this Revan stood, turning to face her old Master in a swirl of black robes. This motion would have caused any of her other underlings to cringe with fear, but not Kreia. Kreia did not fear anything. Not anymore. And the woman did not need to. She had been very powerful once. Very powerful. She had not yet regained all of her former strength in the Force, but her confidence had never wavered. Still, Revan was not about to let the old woman forget who currentlyheld the title of Dark Lord.

"Oh yes," Kreia said calmly, undoubtedly sensing Revan's anger. "I will dare to speak to you in such a tone, for even the Dark Lord of the Sith must be shown her mistakes sometimes."

"Knowing the enemy's strategy is a weapon worth using," Revan said. "Even you must admit this recording has helped us win many battles."

"Yes, I will admit it," Kreia replied. "But you know that strategy by heart, word for word. That is not the reason you listen to that recording every time you think no one else can hear."

Revan's eyes narrowed to crescents beneath her brows. "No?"

"I do not need the use of my eyes to see the obvious, Revan. Nor do I need to probe your mind. It is painfully apparent to anyone who might take the time to watch, and listen, that the Dark Lord of the Sith – for all of her military genius and superiority in battle – has a weakness."

Revan drew herself up, glaring down at her former Master. "Be wary of your words, old woman," she growled, one hand already curled around the hilt of her lightsaber.

"Or what?" Kreia goaded. "You'll strike me down? Even as the Dark Lord you would find that difficult. There is more to the Force than dueling and battle, things you have yet to learn, things I have yet to teach you. But if you would kill me for speaking the truth, than so be it."

Revan scowled, her hand releasing the lightsaber.

A faint smile lifted Kreia's lips.

"You think because you were my Master once-"

"No," Kreia interrupted, "I do not think that. But you were my best student, and you have achieved greater things than I ever could have hoped for you. It would grieve me to see you waste such accomplishments over a fool of a man who should be far beneath your notice."

Revan stood frozen in place, so taken aback by the boldness of Kreia's words that she did not know whether to laugh or draw her weapon. "I think your age has finally caught up with you, old Master," Revan said at last, her voice unusually low.

"Yes, you deny it even to yourself," Kreia countered, her voice suddenly sharp. "Those with sight are often the most blind. Carth Onasi is your weakness, Revan. You fell for that fool even as he fell for you, and now you cannot let him go. You should have killed him long ago, yet you let him live."

"He must pay for his defiance!" Revan snapped.

"And what of Jolee, Mission, and Zaalbar? They also defied you, yet you did not hesitate to wet the sand with their blood, did you?"

"He betrayed me," Revan snarled, her anger mounting. "No one makes a fool of me! He will suffer!"

"He betrayed you?" Kreia mused. "More like you betrayed yourself, allowing yourself to feel so deeply for someone. He suffers because you suffer. You are punishing him for your mistake."

"Your powers are not what they once were, Kreia," Revan said quietly. "You are wrong."

"Very well," Kreia bit off. "Continue in your blindness, if you must. But I warn you, if you stay on this path, your reign as Dark Lord of the Sith will be all too short."

"He cannot possibly overpower me," Revan stated, unwilling to believe Kreia might actually entertain the idea.

The old woman sighed. "Your strategic insights and military prowess has served you well in the past, Revan, but I fear it has narrowed your vision in the present. Carth Onasi could never hope to stand against you in combat, in that you are correct. But there are weapons other than blasters and lightsabers in this world, and those are what he will use against you when the end comes. Those will be your failing."

Revan's fist had wrapped around her saber hilt again, but as always when Kreia began speaking cryptic prophecies, the Dark Lord had an intense desire to discover the true meaning behind the words. "Weapons?" Revan jeered, her voice clipped with impatience. "Weapons such as yours, old woman? Mind tricks and riddles?"

"_Feelings_," Kreia sneered in reply. "Emotions. That which you use against him even now. Love." She smiled, but it was a cold, malicious expression. "And if you do not harden yourself against him, if you do not severe those ties you cling to, you will fall… just as he has fallen."

Revan pulled her lightsaber from her belt, but did not ignite it. She stood stiffly, facing her former Master, glaring hard into the filmy, sightless eyes. "Get out," she whispered gruffly through clenched teeth, barely restraining the urge to see Kreia's head rolling across the cockpit floor.

Kreia remained still for a moment, then gave a low bow. "As you wish, my Lord." The tone bordered mocking, but then the old woman swept away with a whirl of her cloak and disappeared around the curve of the corridor.

Revan let out a growl of frustration, clipping her saber back to her belt and turning to the viewport, wishing she had an outlet for the anger that now boiled within her. Several more turrent blasts streaked up from the planet's surface, and then without warning seven Republic cruisers dropped out of hyperspace, nearly landing on top of her own fleet.

She immediately punched the comm button, a little too forcefully. "Gunships: begin the bombardment," she barked into the speaker. "Cruisers: concentrate all fireon enemy ships, provide cover for our gunships. Infantry: move in on your marks."

At once the space before her filled with light: bright criss-crossing beams of laser fire, burning blue tails of proton torpedoes, orange fireballs of explosions, blinding white flashes of gunshiporbital-bombardment missiles.

Revan watched the organized chaos, her anger fading in the joy she took from battle. She lifted the hand that still held the voice recorder, mulling over her old Master's words.

_But there are weapons other than blasters and lightsabers in this world, and those are what he will use against you when the end comes. Those will be your failing._

Her gaze returned to the planet below her, and in her palm the small recording device sparked and cracked as it crumpled into a useless ball of scrap.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	8. The Trouble With Spice

**The Trouble With Spice**

Carth shoved the datapad into the hands of the Sullustan dock attendant, then strode past the much shorter alien without so much as a glance, ignoring the creature's irritated protests. He was supposed to stay with the freighter until Vogga's mechanic and inspection crew finished with it, but at the time he could hardly care less about the Hutt's docking procedures. He left the landing platform and was halfway to his quarters before Fassa caught up to him.

"Everything went smoothly, I trust?"

Carth shot the Twi'lek a glare. "I'm a pilot, not a smuggler. Next time you want to ship something illegal, get someone else."

Fassa grinned. "But you are the best we have, Onasi. And we can hardly risk employing a pilot of lesser skill to transport our more precious goods. You should know that."

"The Republic won't be watching for smuggled goods," Carth growled, "they're too busy fighting Revan." _And I should be out there helping them, not stuck here smuggling for a fat, greedy Hutt_, he thought bitterly.

"Perhaps," Fassa consented. "But there are other dangers one must be wary of in space."

Carth said nothing, quickening his pace.

The Twi'lek would not be shaken so easily. "You did not stay for the inspection," Fassa suddenly said.

"You have the cargo manifest," Carth said shortly. "It's all there." He reached the door to his bunk, essentially a large cargo crate tipped on its side. The double doors had been fitted with a coded security system, and Carth shielded the keypad from Fassa with his body as he swiftly typed in the password. The doors lumbered open and Carth stepped inside, then turned back to the face the Twi'lek. "You're just going to have to learn to trust me."

He shut the doors in Fassa's face, glad for the opportunity to be rude. Both the Dock Master and Vogga the Hutt seemed to be heavily lacking when it came to common manners, and Carth found it very satisfactory to act crudely back to them as often as he could.

He heaved a sigh of relief, thankful to be alone and planet-side once again. He didn't get much alone time these days; when he wasn't flying or sleeping he was out on the streets trying to gather information or find odd jobs for some extra credits. Even after saving every single credit he could possibly afford not to spend, he was still hardly going to have enough to buy passage off Nar Shaddaa. It was ridiculous what the transports charged outgoing passengers. And he had the distinct impression that anyone known to come from the Refugee Sector was charged more, as the transport captains were eager to capitalize on the people's desperate situation.

Carth had considered simply buying his own small shuttle. It would have been just slightly more expensive than taking a transport, and maybe the better idea in the long run, but he couldn't bear to think of staying on Nar Shaddaa any longer than he already had to, and in the end had opted to stick with the transport.

All he needed was to get off this planet. Then he could contact the Republic and have them arrange to pick him up from wherever the transport landed. That was… _if_ he could still contact the Republic…

Carth pushed the thoughts from his mind, determined not to dwell on his escape from Nar Shaddaa too heavily. The more he thought about it, the longer and more miserable the days became. He had to keep his head clear, focus on getting through one day at a time.

He pulled off the outer layer of his combat suit and shrugged out of the underlying shirt. A year of living here hadn't been enough to make him immune to the smell: a mixture of Hutt sweat, Twi'lek body perfume, waste, and stale recycled air. The odor within his freighter wasn't very pleasant, either. He'd managed to make his room smell better by purchasing an air filtration device, but he still preferredto change his clothes every time he came back from an assignment or excursion.

He threw the clothes into one corner of the small room and went to the footlocker at the end of his cot, rummaging around for some decently clean clothes. As he pulled out a fresh tunic, the crystalline holocube he kept stored at the bottom of the trunk caught in the folds of the shirt and spilled out onto the floor with a clatter.

Carth swore, immediately grabbing up the cube and inspecting it for cracks. But it looked undamaged. He stared at it for awhile, able to recall every word the hologram of Revan had spoken very clearly. He listened to the recording every once and awhile, just to remind himself who had sent him here, who was responsible for the misery he had been forced to endure for nearly a year now. It helped to motivate him, to keep him focused on what he had to do to get out of this place… to remind him that the woman in the hologram was not the woman he had fallen in love with….

A knock on his door caused Carth to startle so badly that he nearly dropped the holocube. He swore again. "What?" he demanded, shaking himself from his thoughts and safely stowing the cube away beneath the stack of clothes in the footlocker again.

"May I speak with you, Onasi?" The voice came muffled through the door, but Carth recognized it: Fassa again.

Carth rolled his eyes, pulling the new shirt over his head and wondering if Fassa would ever stop bothering him. He moved toward the door and punched the release button, then took a step back at what he saw.

Fassa stood at the front of a group of four large Weequay, all bearing stun-sticks. The Twi'lek himself had his blaster drawn, the green-skinned face grim.

The sight was so unexpected that Carth didn't even think to draw his own blaster. Instead he stood frozen in place,staring blanklyat Fassa. "What in the-"

One of the Weequay stepped forward abruptly, bringing the butt of the stun-stick handle down across Carth's temple. The force of the blow flashed white across Carth's vision, and then he was on his hands and knees, looking at the floor, his head awash in nauseating pain.

"Trust you, indeed," he heard Fassa growl from somewhere behind him. "How ungrateful! To think Vogga hired you! Paid you! Gave you shelter! And this is how you repay him?"

Carth raised his head cautiously, squinting up at the Twi'lek who now stood in front of him. "Wha-what are you talking about?" he asked gruffly, feeling a warm line of blood trickle down from his temple. He prodded the swelling bruise gingerly and winced. Surely they couldn't be this mad over him missing that inspection?

"_This_ is what I'm talking about," Fassa snapped, shoving the datapad containing the freighter's cargo manifest under Carth's nose.

The soldier gazed at it, but it hurt his head to read the tiny electronic print, and he'd checked over all of it before he'd docked the ship anyway, so he knew it was all in order, all accurate… "I… I don't understand…"

"Search his things," Fassa ordered the Weequay, and they immediately set about following the order, destroying Carth's room with great enthusiasm. He watched for a moment in dismay, but took solace in the fact that he had hid his stash of saved money somewhere else. Somewhere he knew these scum wouldn't find it. Whatever they were looking for, they wouldn't find it here. He had nothing in this room except his clothes, bed, air filtration system….

He leapt to his feet as one of the Weequay moved toward the footlocker, ignoring the dizziness that rushed over him as he stumbled in its direction. He suddenly wished he had hidden the holocube with his money. He didn't want them to find it, didn't want them to know of his connections to Revan, didn't want to give them more reason to humiliate or use him…

But the Weequay turned as Carth approached and brandished his stun-stick, effectively blocking Carth's path to the footlocker. The soldier reflexively drew his blaster, staring the alien in the eyes. "Just tell me what you're looking for," Carth said as evenly as he could, "and maybe I can help you find it."

The Weequay lifted his top lip in a snarl, but then something hit Carth between the shoulder blades, knocking him to his knees. Immediately there were hands on him, stripping away his blaster and trapping his arms behind his back. He struggled briefly, but the hold was far too strong and his head now pounded so fiercely he thought his eyes might squeeze out of his skull.

The Weequay before him gave a dismissive grunt and went back to the footlocker.It wrenched the top of the storage container open and then kicked the whole thing over. Carth winced as nearly everything he owned spilled out of the trunk and onto the floor: clothes, spare blaster carbines, food rations, medical supplies, computer spikes – he hoped Fassa wouldn't see those - repair parts, the holocube, and… a small leather pouch closed with a tie. Carth frowned at the sight of it. He had no idea where that had come from. It certainly wasn't his, and he certainly didn't remember ever taking something like that from anyone….

The Weequay stooped to pick up the pouch, and Fassa immediately rushed over to see what it was. They loosened the tie and peered inside. Carth watched anxiously, trying to decide if it was better to speak up or stay quiet. The Weequay's sudden bark of triumph made the human jump, but then Fassa snatched the pouch away from the Weequay's clawed fingers and marched over to stand in front of Carth.

"Did you think we wouldn't find out?" the Twi'lek demanded angrily, shaking the small bag in Carth's face. "Did you really think you could get away with something like this?"

Carth blinked, bewildered. "I still don't think I -"

"I am not a fool, Onasi," Fassa hissed fiercely. "Though it is now becoming clear that you are not as intelligent as I had thought you were."

"But I-"

"Cuff him," Fassa told the two Weequay who held Carth captive, though the Twi'lek's eyes remained fixed on Carth's face. "Vogga will decide what is to become of such a thief."

"Thief? What!" A cold dread began to creep up Carth's throat. "I'm not a thief! I never stole anything!" He fought against the Weequay as they struggled to fit his wrists into a pair of binder-cuffs.

"Indeed?" Fassa sneered. "Then how do you explain this?" He opened the leather pouch and poured some of its contents into his green palm.

Carth felt his heart plummet at the sight of the soft, glistening mound of powder. Spice. That's what he'd been hauling today. But it made no sense; he had never touched the stuff... he had supervised its transference onto his freighter at Kessel, had recounted and re-weighed the crates once he'd docked at Nar Shaddaa. All of it had been accounted for then, how could some of it have come up missing after docking? How could it have ended up here, in his quarters, before he did?

"That's not mine," Carth said hoarsely. "I've never seen that bag before!"

Fassa gave him a disapproving look.

"I counted it,"Carth added somewhat desperately. "I weighed the crates… it was all there! I didn't take anything, Fassa, I swear!"

The Twi'lek snorted. "A likely story." He carefully brushed the spice back into the leather pouch. "I warned you against committing rash actions, Onasi. I thought you had understood that warning."

"I- I had," Carth insisted. "That's what I'm telling you! I have less than a month – ow!" The Weequay behind him had finally latched his wrists into the binder-cuffs, locking them much too tightly. "I have less than a month left on my contract, why would I - why would I steal from you? It doesn't make any sense!"

"Of course it makes sense," Fassa retorted. "I know how much it will cost you to get off this planet. With this little bit of spice you could buy your own ship. Just might be cheaper for you that way, eh? And better too, you could go anywhere you wanted with your own ship, couldn't you?"

"I don't need my own ship," Carth said through his teeth. "I've got money for a transport; I don't need your damn spice!"

Fassa's blue eyes narrowed, and then the Twi'lek turned on his heel, striding away through the doorway. "Bring him," the Twi'lek called over his shoulder. "He can tell his lies to Vogga."

Carth swore as two of the Weequay took hold of his upper arms and dragged him to his feet. He tried to resist, tried to wrench himself free of their grasp, but all in vain. At last he sagged within their grip, exhausted and nauseous from his headache. He cursed his luck the entire way to Vogga's audience chamber, knowing that whatever was about to happen to him next was not going to be pleasant.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	9. Sold

**Author's Note:** Sorry this one is really short! But I've two more chapters done, they'll be coming along soon... and never fear, more exciting things will be happening soon as well...

* * *

**Sold**

Carth hit his knees hard in front of Vogga's dais, held there by firm pressure on his shoulders from the Weequay that had dragged him there. To his relief the room was nearly empty; only a few of Vogga's cronies lingered in the far corners and Aayla was nowhere to be seen. Carth took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, wishing he hadn't been hit so hard. The pain made it hard to think, hard to concentrate. And he would need his wits about him to survive this one.

"Ho ho!" Vogga rumbled in Huttese, rocking back on the dais. "What is this? Why is my best pilot in cuffs?"

"Because of this, your Excellency," Fassa said, also in Huttese, and he quite smugly brandished the leather pouch. "Upon inspection of Onasi's freighter at his return from Kessel, it was noted that some of his spice shipment was missing. As Onasi had been the only one in contact with the spice before the inspection – and, might I add, did not stay for the inspection but seemed very eager to get back to his quarters after docking – I assumed that he had been the one responsible for the missing spice."

Carth scowled. He should have known to stay for the inspection, then they would have had no way to accuse him of stealing the spice….

"This was found in his quarters," Fassa continued, opening the pouch to show Vogga the spice within. "I believe its weight accounts for all of the missing spice."

Vogga looked at the bag, then at Carth. The Hutt released a long, low grumble, the red and yellow eyes narrowing dangerously. He barked a word in Huttese and at once a Weequay's blade was at Carth's throat, the cold edge pressing uncomfortably against his skin.

"Vogga no!" Carth blurted, unable to help himself. He did not want to die this way. "No, that's not what happened-"

"Silence!" Vogga roared, and Carth's voice faltered. The beings in the corners shifted uneasily. "This is an outrage!" Vogga boomed, his tail curling and uncurling madly. "The materials you haul belong to me! I should have your head for this offense!"

Carth swallowed carefully, his heart racing. "Vogga… please… I didn't take-"

"Be silent!"

Carth grimaced as the knife shifted against his trachea, forcing him to lean back against the Weequay's leg.

"Do you know what happens to those who steal from me?" Vogga asked, leaning forward ominously over the edge of his dais.

Carth certainly did know… he had heard plenty of rumors, and during his employ with the Hutt he had seen several people dragged off to some unknown place, most having been accused of stealing. He opened his mouth to comment, but the pressure of the blade against his throat changed his mind and he settled for a slight but very serious nod.

Vogga leaned back again. "Good. Then you knew of the consequences before you took the action. You should have prepared yourself for such a punishment-"

"Pardon, your Excellency," Fassa interrupted delicately, lifting one slender finger. The Hutt turned to look at the Twi'lek and Fassa continued. "But it seems a waste to execute him. Surely his skills have some value?"

Vogga was silent for a moment, and Carth's eyes flicked from Fassa to Vogga and back again. He twisted his wrists in the binder-cuffs, but they were latched so securely his fingers were beginning to go numb. If only he could find some way out of the cuffs, he could still get to his blaster…

"He could be sold," Vogga muttered at last, abruptly drawing Carth's attention away from his escape plans.

_Sold?_

"The spice mines, perhaps," the Hutt continued, his voice growing louder as he progressed along his train of thought. "That would be fitting. Or Velga. She was so disappointed when she found out he'd had the chance to go to her last year…"

Carth's pounding heart seemed to freeze in his chest. He would almost rather die than go to either of those places.

"But the cost of your best pilot…" Fassa offered, "it might be more than anyone else could afford…"

This time both Vogga and Carth looked to the Twi'lek. "Would he not prove more valuable here?" Fassa suggested. "Where you could continue to profit from his skills?"

A light seemed to turn on behind Vogga's eyes at these words. He turned toward Carth, drawing up his wide, blubbery frame. "Fassa has made his point well," the Hutt grumbled, "and because of him your life will be spared. But your crime will not go unpunished. You will serve me until I have recovered the money I wasted by employing such a theif." The bulbous eyes shifted to the Weequay. "Mark him for thievery and take him to the slaves' quarters. Remove his weapon. Tag his freighter, strip his quarters and bring any of his possessions to me. Go."

The knife dropped from Carth's throat and clawed hands grabbed at his arms again, but this time he hardly noticed. His mouth hung open in silent protest, his body numb with shock. How could this be happening? He had never touched that cursed spice, they had no proof, he had always followed every single one of their ridiculous rules… His gaze drifted to Fassa as the Weequay pulled him to his feet; for a second their eyes met. And Carth realized the truth.

He ripped away from the Weequay and hurled himself at Fassa, his rage spreading fire through his limbs. "You flaming bastard son of a shutta!" He crashed into the Twi'lek, sending them both to the floor, but then the Weequay were upon him again, pulling him off the bewildered Dock Master. Carth fought them viciously, still lashing out at Fassa's head with his boots even as he was dragged away. "I knew it!" Carth barked hoarsely. "I knew it! You set me up! Planned this out from the beginning! Think you're real clever don't you, you slimy little sewer worm-"

Fassa jumped up at the words, his eyes bright with anger, but before the Twi'lek could retaliate Carth felt the sharp bite of a stun-stick on his shoulder. His muscles immediately locked up and he felt himself falling just before the world went black.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	10. The Irony

**Author's Note:** Passages that are entirely in italics are meant to be flashbacks. Thank you so much to all of my loyal readers and to all of you who have taken the time to leave feedback for this story in reviews or emails!

* * *

**The Irony**

_Carth sat on the edge of his bunk in his quarters on the _Ebon Hawk_, unable to go back to sleep._ _He stared down at his hands in his lap, at the sheet that had tangled around his waist, and wondered how he had reached this point. Sitting aboard a stolen freighter crewed by some of the most questionable and unusual humans and aliens… and Jedi. _

_The Jedi had always managed to butt their way into his life one way or another. He found their constant demands, stuffy rituals, and sense of superiority to be most annoying. That and the fact they had abandoned the Republic at the start of the Mandalorian Wars ranked the Jedi just above the Dark Lord Malak in his opinion. They had hidden within their Temples and watched as countless numbers of innocents died. But now… suddenly now they were keen to do battle, and to take charge of that battle as well. He supposed it was because now it was one of their own murdering people and making the Order look bad. He snorted and shook his head. The irony._

_There was movement in the bed behind him and Carth turned his head to look at the woman who slept there. She snuggled deeper into the pillow and sighed deeply, but remained sleeping. He smiled, reaching forward and gently brushing a stray strand of brown hair from her face._

_The Jedi. For so many years he had disliked them, hated them almost. And now here he was, in love with one. Sleeping with one. The irony._

_He looked to the door again, making sure it was locked. He wasn't quite sure he wanted anyone else to know about him and Moriel yet. It would only complicate things, and he didn't trust that someone on the ship wouldn't take advantage of the relationship._

_Fingertips brushed the bare skin of his back and Carth startled, turning back to look at Moriel. Her shining blue eyes met his and she smiled softly. "Morning."_

_He smiled half-heartedly; the thought of how the rest of the crew would react to the fact that he and Moriel had slept together was distracting. "Morning."_

_Moriel propped her head up on her elbow, eyeing him curiously. "What's wrong?"_

_He shook his head, standing from the bed and going to retrieve his pants. "Nothing." _

"_You can't lie to a Jedi."_

_Carth lifted one eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically as he pulled up his trousers. "Now see… last night you claimed you _weren't_ a Jedi."_

_She grinned at his comment, biting her lip playfully. "That's because you said Jedi were stuffy, boring, and overbearing."_

"_Okay... well…_some_ of them are," Carth amended, rummaging around in his footlocker for a shirt._

"And_ you kept saying Jedi weren't allowed to love anyone, much less _sleep_ with anyone," Moriel added._

"_They aren't! Even I_ _know that."_

"_Well, I don't care." Moriel sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet around her like a large white robe. "I'm _not_ really a Jedi anyway. I wasn't raised as one. I don't have to follow their rules."_

"_I think Bastila would argue that."_

"_She can argue it until her pretty little face is blue – I'm not about to let a _stuffy, boring, overbearing Jedi_ tell me how to live my life." She grinned at Carth, who shot her a disapproving look and shook his head again. _

"_But you're changing the subject," she continued abruptly. "What's worrying you?"_

_Carth sighed, giving up on his hunt for a shirt. _Damn persistent woman_. She always had been, he supposed she always would be. And, like always, he felt compelled to give in. "I just… I just don't think we should tell anyone about us… about _this_. Not yet."_

"_Why not?" Her face was so innocent._

"_Because I… I don't trust everyone. It would just complicate things and… I don't want to hear any more lectures."_

"_From Bastila?"_

"_Yes. Exactly."_

_She smiled. "I understand." She stood from the bed, dragging the sheet along with her, and came to stand with him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing herself against him. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. He held her tightly, and for a long, quiet moment Carth Onasi simply stood and enjoyed feeling whole and at peace._

Carth's eyes snapped open; he was very abruptly awake, though he wasn't quite sure what had awoken him. He looked up at a ceiling he did not recognize and frowned, struggling to shake off the disorientation that clung to his mind. A vague notion of feelings and words still lingered in his head, and he realized he must have been dreaming. Dreaming about _her_. Dreaming about those precious few weeks when he had been almost as happy as he was before the war, when he had still had a home, a wife, a son, a life….

He remembered where he was, what had happened, and felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders: anger, frustration, helplessness, hate. He'd had enough of this. Vogga had let him live, let him stay on Nar Shadaa, and he wasn't going to waste his chance. He was leaving.

Carth tried to sit up, but as soon as he moved his head a throbbing pain exploded through his skull. He moaned and lay back again; realizing for the first time that his upper half was naked and both his wrists and ankles were restrained. He tugged at the bonds experimentally; buckled leather from the feel of them. Not so tricky to get out of as binder-cuffs, but not easy either. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain in his head to go away and cursing the Weequay who had hit him. He couldn't get out of here if he couldn't think straight.

"Oh, yeh awake now, are yeh?"

Carth winced at the voice, it seemed much too loud. He cracked one eye open and looked sideways to see an elderly man approaching from the far side of the room.

"Didn't think tha' stimulant would kick in so fast. There now, take it easy, yeh had a hard blow to the head there…" The man reached somewhere out of sight to retrieve a cold, damp cloth, then carefully pressed it to the swollen bruise on Carth's temple.

"Ow," Carth croaked, eyeing the old man cautiously. "Who are you?"

The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Oh, I'm Gammon Dugbit. And yeh'd be Carth Onasi, yes. I've heard a yeh."

"I bet," Carth muttered.

"Oh no," Gammon insisted, "not jus' from this business with Vogga. I heard a yeh before, from the Mandalorian Wars and the fight against tha' crazy Malak."

Carth had to admit this news surprised him. "Really?"

"Yes," Gammon replied. "I meself am a Republic supporter. Shame though, tha' even though Malak is dead the war ain't over. Not sure if it'll ever be over, know what I mean?"

Carth merely grunted. He didn't want to think about what it might take to stop Revan, now that she had established such a hold on the galaxy.

"Have to admit I was much surprised to see yeh on Nar Shaddaa," Gammon went on, continuing to dab Carth's bruise as he talked. "'Specially in the employ of someone like Vogga. Thought yeh'd be out and about still, yeh know, givin' Revan hell like y'all did Malak."

The noise that came from Carth's throat was more like a growl than any kind of response.

"How did yeh end up here, anyway, if yeh don't mind me askin'?"

"I do mind," Carth snapped, jerking his head away from the cloth.

Gammon stopped, watching Carth in silence for a moment, but then he shrugged and tossed the bloodied rag into a nearby bucket. "Oh. Well then forget I said anything. Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to put yeh on the defensive. Though I _was_ wondering, did yeh really steal that spice?"

"Of course I didn't. Fassa set me up."

The man nodded, as if satisfied by this answer. "Of course yeh didn't. I knew yeh didn't. No Republic soldier would do such a thing, I told meself. Yeh all are trained better than tha'. No thieves among the Republic's ranks-"

_No, no thieves_… _just traitors._

"Do you have a purpose?" Carth interrupted loudly; Gammon's constant jabbering wasn't helping his head any. "Or are you just here to talk me to death?"

Gammon fell silent, looking hurt. But he recovered swiftly. "Actually I serve as what yeh might call Vogga's medic. Though I never had much school in doctorin'. Lets me help people out though, when I can. Course… it also means I have to do some rather unpleasant jobs…" He looked suddenly uncomfortable.

Carth watched the man warily. Now that he had a chance to look around some more, he saw the room resembled an unsettling cross between a medic's operating room and a torture chamber. And he happened to be lying on the only table equipped with restraints. He decided he didn't very much like this situation. But then, he hadn't liked any of the situations he'd found himself in during the past year. "Exactly what sort of unpleasant jobs?"

Gammon wrung his hands together. "Well, er… see… Vogga's ordered yeh're to be marked for thievery…"

Carth lifted his eyebrows, encouraging the man to go on.

"And… well…," the man dropped his eyes to the floor. "It'll hurt. A lot. Tha's the whole purpose of it, a course. Sorry."

Carth turned his eyes back to the ceiling. "Yah. Sorry."

There was a brief silence. "I have a sedative I can give yeh though," Gammon offered hopefully, as if the suggestion would make Carth forgive him for what he was about to do. "Yeh'll still feel the pain a bit, but the drug would dull the worst of it. Course, I ain't supposed to give it to yeh… but long as yeh don't tell anyone…" He glanced around the empty room, as if afraid of being overheard.

"How about we skip the whole marking part?" Carth suggested. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

Gammon fidgeted. "Well… I would if I could… but he'll check, Vogga will. He knows I don't like doing it… he don't trust me all tha' much. I respect what yeh've done for the Republic and all but… well, no offense, but yeh ain't worth dyin' over."

Carth closed his eyes and sighed wearily. "Right. No offense."

"Here. Yeh can have this, though." Carth felt a prick in the bend of his right elbow as the sedative was administered. "Should start working in a few minutes. I'll go get the brand ready."

Carth's eyes snapped open again. "The what?"

"I'm sorry. I really am. I hate doing this, yeh know."

Carth turned his head carefully to look over at Gammon and was horrified to see the man bearing a long iron brand, the head of which glowed bright neon orange. He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to take deep, even breaths. He waited for the sedative to take effect, but it didn't seem to be working. Or maybe there was just too much adrenaline in his system….

"I'll make this quick, promise," Gammon was saying. "Just a light touch, just enough to leave a mark. It'll be over before yeh know it. And the pain is only temporary. It'll fade before too long, at least tha's what they say-"

"Just shut up and get it over with," Carth ground out between his teeth. Nothing Gammon said was going to make him feel any better. Only one thought helped to steel his nerves, and that was the knowledge that he had survived HK's Silencer device. He didn't remember much of that experience, but judging from what he could recall, there could be no greater physical agony in the universe. Of that he was certain.

"I'm going to shut him down." The words left Carth's mouth before he consciously realized it.

"Eh? Shut who down?" Gammon was clearly taken aback by Carth's abrupt statement.

"Vogga," Carth slurred, and the heaviness of his tongue made him happy. At least now he knew the sedative was working. "When I get outta here, after she's dead, I'm coming back to shut him down. Get him for illegal smuggling. Take everything he has. Destroy him."

"Er… yes…well," Gammon stammered, flustered by the bold words and glancing around the room again. "Yeh just remember when yeh come back that I never wanted to do this, yah?"

"Sure," Carth murmured. His body seemed to be floating. He liked this drug.

"Um… outta curiosity… after who's dead?"

"Revan."

"Revan's a woman?" Gammon squawked, and there was a loud clang as he dropped the brand. "By all the unholy suns… I – I never knew… she was always wearin' tha' mask…"

"Oh yes," Carth replied. "She's a woman." _The irony._ And for reasons unknown even to himself, he started laughing.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	11. The Answer Is Still No

**The Answer Is Still No**

Carth lay in his bunk in the slave's quarters, staring at the bottom of the bed above him and trying to occupy his throbbing head by coming up with some way to get to his hidden stash of money. He was having an exceedingly difficult time coming up with anything feasible, and the searing pain still soaking into the skin of his left forearm wasn't helping any. It had been nearly an entire 24 hours since Gammon Dugbit had quite literally branded him a thief, but Carth didn't think the sting – or the swelling – had eased up at all. The so-called medic hadn't even bandaged it, and Carth had been far too nauseous at that point to do it himself. He scowled, knowing it'd be just his luck if he caught some fatal infection while lying in this cesspit.

He heard someone approach the bed but ignored them. He hadn't talked to anyone since coming here, and they had in turn avoided him. He preferred it that way anyway. At least they had left him alone. Probably because they knew he had nothing left to steal.

The thought of Vogga keeping all his possessions still lit a fierce fire in Carth's chest. The greedy cheat. He wondered if the Hutt had found the holocube yet, or played the message. No doubt Vogga would find Revan's speech an immense business opportunity… what Hutt could pass up the chance to make a deal with the Dark Lord of the Sith herself? At least there was one fact Carth could console himself with: when it came to Revan, Vogga would get far more than he bargained for.

But how the Hutt would react to the message hardly mattered now. Vogga could keep the holocube, and everything else. Carth still had his money, and he would still get off this rock… eventually. That's what he had to concentrate on…

Someone sat down on the end of his bed and Carth glanced over only to see Aalya perched there, holding a large wooden bowl in her hands and smiling at him. He groaned, closing his eyes as if that could make her go away. That was the trouble with living in the slave's quarters. No locks, no codes, no keywords… no privacy.

She sidled up closer to his head and he opened his eyes again, wishing he had the energy to get up and leave. She offered him the bowl, and he realized it was full of some sort of soup. A strong aroma drifted from the broth and all at once Carth realized he was very, very hungry. He peered at the blue Twi'lek, not trusting her any more than he trusted Vogga or Fassa. But there she was, and there was the soup, and his stomach growled at the smell of it.

_Oh, hell with it. Not like things can get much worse._

He reached for the bowl with his right hand and she gave it to him, her smile widening. She reached over to help him sit up, and he did so carefully, ducking his head so as not to hit it on the upper bunk. He winced as both his arm and his head protested the movement.

"Does it still hurt?" Aayla asked softly in heavily accented Basic.

Carth glared at her. What did she mean 'does it still hurt'? Did it look like it _didn't_ hurt? He chose not to reply to her question and turned instead to the soup, taking a large swallow and relishing the taste of it. It was no ship-ration soup, that he knew right away. This stuff had been made from real, fresh ingredients. He wondered where the hell she had gotten soup ingredients from, then decided he probably didn't want to know.

"It's made from an herb found on Kashyyk," she said eagerly, as if reading his thoughts. "A Wookie remedy for pain… it should help."

Carth looked sideways at her, saw her watching him very intently, and stopped gulping the soup. He cleared his throat. "No."

She blinked her long lashes, confusion creasing her forehead. "No what?"

"I'm still not going to sleep with you."

Aayla drew back at his words, her mouth falling open. "Carth! Is that what you think I want?"

"Yes."

"Well… you're wrong."

"Uh huh." He didn't bother arguing. It just wasn't worth it. He went back to drinking the soup. She watched him for a moment longer, then scooted closer to his side. He eyed her warily from the corner of his eye.

She leaned inwards slightly, her lips close to his ear. "At least, that's not _all_ I want," she whispered, putting a hand on his knee, and Carth choked on the broth. He fell into a coughing fit; she lifted her hand to pat him on the back until he had recovered enough to look at her. "I want you to take me with you," she said innocently.

Carth stared at her, leaning backwards to try and distance himself from her. "Take you with me?" he repeated blankly. "Take you with me where?"

"To wherever you're planning to go with Vogga's freighter."

Carth blinked, alarmed at hearing her state his intentions as clearly as if she had read his mind. "I, uh… I don't think I understand what you mean…"

"Yes you do." Her dark eyes met his gaze evenly. "Vogga thinks he has cowed you," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper again, "he thinks you will continue to be his little pawn. But I know better. I see it in your face. You're going to steal his ship."

Carth looked around the room hastily, hoping no one was within earshot of this conversation. He'd gone through enough after being accused of stealing that spice… he didn't want to be accused of stealing a ship as well. Fortunately, the room was nearly empty. He shot Aayla a vicious glare. "What, you want to get me killed too? I almost got my throat slit for a handful of spice… what makes you think I'd be stupid enough to go for that freighter?"

She gave him a sly smile. "Because you know it's your only chance. Vogga won't let you out of the compound unless you're making a delivery. And… you want to get him back."

He gave a bitter chuckle. "Yah, well… I can think of some things I'd like to do to that Hutt… and they're much worse than taking one of his piece-of-junk ships."

"I can help you," Aayla purred, leaning so that her shoulder was mere centimeters from his. "I know how to get around the safeguards Vogga puts on his freighters… all you have to do is drop me off on whatever planet you're going to."

Carth held her gaze for a moment, then shoved the near-empty soup bowl into her hands. "Thanks for the food," he said shortly. "Good night."

She looked at the bowl briefly, as if confused, but then brought her large eyes up to his face again. One of her hands went toward his leg but he caught her wrist, giving her a warning look.

"But Carth -"

"Good night," he said again, more firmly this time.

She sighed, dropping her eyes. "Very well. I'll return with some ointment and bandages."

Carth rolled his eyes as she stood from the bed and began moving toward the door. "You needn't bother," he called after her. "The answer will still be no… to both things."

Aayla glanced at him over her shoulder, then shook her head, her lekku swaying. She disappeared around the doorframe without another word and Carth groaned, easing himself back down on the bed. As much as he hated to admit it, the bothersome female was right. He couldn't foresee a way of leaving the compound without having to take guards with him, and he certainly wasn't going to trust anyone else to bring that money to him.

Stealing Vogga's freighter might be his only opportunity. He just needed to get far enough out to contact the Republic. Then he could come back for his money, and maybe teach Vogga a thing or two about business while he was at it. Still, taking the ship would be risky. If the Hutt's people found him before the Republic could get there to pick him up…. He glanced down to the raw, red burns that now marred the skin of his left forearm. Vogga did not take kindly to those who stole from him… especially those who stole starships. If Vogga caught him trying to run, Carth had no doubt he'd suffer a great deal more than a brand.

He sighed, closing his eyes, and realized abruptly that Aayla hadn't been lying about that soup. Already the pain in his head and arm had dulled, and a deep sense of comfort seeped through his body, making his limbs feel heavy and warm. He enjoyed the feeling, allowing himself to forget his troubles for a moment, and slowly he drifted into sleep.

_But the answer is still no._

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	12. Surprises

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much to Rian Sage for giving me the link to proper Star Wars swear words and also for catching my mistake on the previous posting of this chapter! It is now more game accurate! Hooray! Lol.

* * *

**Surprises**

Five days after the spice incident, Carth received his first assignment under his new "employment" conditions. Nothing illegal this time: just a boring, routine run to the Tatooine junk shops for some cheap starship parts. But it gave him a chance to finally leave Vogga's compound, to get off Nar Shaddaa. And he wouldn't be coming back to this hell-hole in anything less than a Republic cruiser.

He strode quickly across the expanse of docking bays, trailed by two Weequay guards, and snatched the datapad containing the cargo list from the dock attendant as he passed. The Sullustean chattered some foreign insults at Carth's back, but the soldier ignored the alien, having just spotted Fassa standing near the main Dock Control terminal. Carth's eyes narrowed and he switched directions abruptly, arrowing straight for the Twi'lek.

Fassa saw him coming and turned from the computer, flashing Carth a wide grin.

But Carth's steps never faltered. He walked straight up to the Dock Master, and without a second's hesitation, cracked his fist into the Twi'lek's jaw. Fassa spun with the force of the hit and would have been knocked to the ground if he had not caught himself on the edge of the terminal.

The Weequay guards immediately moved forward and caught Carth's shoulders, but he didn't fight them. He kept his burning glare on Fassa. "You're lucky I don't have my blaster."

Fassa straightened slowly, his fingers gingerly prodding his now bloodied and swollen bottom lip, the once-gloating blue eyes now cold with fury. "And you're lucky you're Vogga's property now," the Twi'lek growled. "Because I _do_ have my blaster."

"I'm nobody's property," Carth snarled.

"That brand of yours says otherwise," Fassa retorted, a contemptuous smile twisting his lips.

Carth glared, then ducked out of the Weequay's hold and sent another fist into Fassa's face. This time the Twi'lek hit the ground… and didn't get up. Satisfied at last, Carth turned away from the unconscious Dock Master and made his way back toward the freighter. He hardly noticed how the other pilots and dock attendants stared at him as he stalked up the boarding ramp, leaving the Weequay behind. Perhaps Vogga felt the "safeguards" Aayla had mentioned would keep Carth from doing anything he wasn't supposed to once he was on the freighter, and therefore physical guards weren't needed.

Carth hoped to prove the Hutt wrong.

The soldier wrinkled his nose as he made his way to the cockpit. He hadn't missed the smell of this junk-bucket, that was certain. He tossed the datapad with the cargo list into the copilot's seat and settled himself in the pilot's seat, quickly running through all the required preflight checks. He powered up the engines and frowned at how slowly they warmed up.

_Vogga should thank me for taking this one_, he thought, shaking his head. _It's about ready to be scrapped anyway._

He glanced down at his navigational read-out screen, which currently blinked large red letters in Huttese: LIFT-OFF CODE FROM CONTROL NOT RECEIVED. PLEASE CONTACT CONTROL FOR TRAFFIC CODE. MANUAL LIFT-OFF NOT RECOMMENDED.

Carth looked out the viewport and grinned at the sight of Fassa's prone form. Well, he wasn't about to get a traffic code from Control while the Dock Master was unconscious… he was just going to have to take her out manually. He grasped the steering yoke, easing the freighter out of its docking bay and then up into the many lanes of Nar Shaddaa's sky traffic, switching off the blaring alarm that warned him against such an action.

He maneuvered his way out of the atmosphere, and as the blackness of space filled the cockpit's window he felt an overwhelming sense of freedom. He was done with Vogga… at least until he came back to arrest the Hutt for smuggling. All that was left now was to contact the Republic.

He checked the freighter's fuel cell status and was relieved to find it full. He typed Coruscant's coordinates into the navi-computer. Vogga couldn't track him in hyperspace; it would be better just to go straight to the capital. There would be no waiting that way… no chance for Vogga's bounty hunters to catch up with him. By the time the Hutt figured out what he'd done, Carth would be aboard a cruiser and headed back to Nar Shaddaa for payback.

The thought made him very happy, and he engaged the hyperdrive motivator with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. The stars around him streaked as the ship launched into hyperspace. Carth sighed, leaning back in the seat and propping his feet up on the bulkhead. So much for Vogga's safeguards… the computer hadn't even prompted him when he'd changed course. Maybe this freighter was just getting too damn old….

He put his hands behind his head, wincing slightly at the soreness that still lingered in his arm and eyeing the bandages that covered the burn. Despite his constant protests, Aayla had continued to make him healing soups and rebandage his injury daily. She had said nothing more about accompanying him on this trip, had dropped no more sexual innuendos, but he had remained suspicious of her care nonetheless. It was nice to not have to worry about her now, either.

Carth closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet, enjoying the privacy. The steady thrum of the ship around him was soothing; he hadn't realized how much he'd missed being in space. After a year of servitude – a year he never should have tolerated – just a few hours more and he'd be back on track again… back to hunting Revan, back to getting his revenge….

"So… where're we going, soldier?"

Carth jumped from his chair, whirling around to face the voice and falling back against the bulkhead in his surprise. Aayla stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip, lekku draped over her shoulders, a toothy grin on her face.

"Aayla," Carth choked out, the adrenaline still stinging his limbs. "I… what… how…" he stammered, then finally seemed to find his voice again, "What in the _kriffing galaxy_ do you think you're doing?"

She shrugged carelessly, striding into the cockpit and going to look over the navigational read-out. "You didn't think I was going to let you leave without me, did you?"

"But… I told you…"

"Ah, Coruscant," she said brightly, ignoring him completely. "That's a nice place. But we'll never make it." She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why not?" Carth felt the stirring of irritation rise within him. He hadn't reached this point only to have his plan shot down by the likes of her. He briefly judged the potential threat of the blaster and vibroblade hanging from her belt. If he acted swiftly, and without warning, he might have a chance.

"Vogga will have put a distance limit on the freighter's hyperdrive," Aayla explained matter-of-factly. "And Coruscant is farther from Nar Shaddaa than Tatooine. Once the set limit is reached, the motivators will shut off."

Carth watched her, trying to determine if she told the truth. Was this another game of hers? What did she want in return for telling him this? Or maybe she was a spy for Vogga, maybe she had never really wanted off Nar Shaddaa…

"Oh, before I forget…" She reached down for the blaster, pulling it from her holster. Carth tensed, but instead of shooting at him, she held the weapon out to him. "I managed to retrieve some of your stuff before I left," she said conversationally. "Here's your blaster. Thought you might want it, since you obviously spent so much time working on it."

Carth reached out hesitantly, carefully lifting the blaster from her fingers. It was his all right… and how he'd missed it these past five days….

"And I brought you this."

He looked up only to find Aayla offering him the holocube. He blinked at it, then snatched it from her possessively. "Did you listen to it?"

She took a step back at the harshness in his voice. "What? No… of course I didn't."

He gripped the blaster, pointing it at her face. "Don't lie to me… did you listen to it?"

"No!" she insisted. "I only took it because I heard Vogga making a fuss about it a few days ago. I thought it might be important…"

He didn't lower the blaster.

"Carth, please! Don't point that at me."

"Give me your vibroblade," he ordered.

She stared at him. "What? Why?"

"Don't ask questions, just do it."

"But… Carth, I'm not going to turn you in. Why would I bring you your stuff, or hand back your blaster, or tell you about the freighter's safeguards if I was going to –"

"I don't know and I don't care," Carth interrupted. "If you knew my story you'd understand why I tend to be a little suspicious of people. Now… your vibroblade." He motioned with the fingers of his free hand.

She sighed, unbuckling her weapons belt and tossing it to the floor at his feet. "There. Happy now?"

"No." He jerked the blaster muzzle toward the door. "Move. To the secure cargo bay."

"Are you being serious?"

"Does it look like I'm joking?"

"You'll never get to Coruscant without me… you don't know how to override the protocols-"

"Then why don't you tell me?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms again. "Not if you're going to treat me like some hostage."

"Oh no, I don't make deals. Not anymore. Tell me what to do or start walking."

She glared at him for a moment. "Suit yourself." She spun on her heel, marching out into the corridor and making her way toward the cargo section of the freighter. Carth followed along behind her, the blaster trained on her back, the holocube clutched in his other hand. They reached the secure storage hold and Carth punched in the code. The double doors hissed opened, revealing a large, empty room. This was where all important cargo was kept, cargo that deserved protection from thieves. It was also the only room on the freighter that could be locked and unlocked only from the outside.

He waved Aayla inside. She rolled her eyes but obeyed, turning to face him once she had stepped over the threshold. "I resent this, you know."

"Yah? Well I resent being manipulated, used, falsely accused of stealing, branded, robbed, and stabbed in the back… but I don't see anyone feeling sorry for me, do you?"

She blinked at him.

He slapped the close button.

"Just don't say I didn't tell you so when the ship breaks down," she called out as the doors slid shut and eclipsed her from Carth's view. He made sure the doors were locked, then leaned against the wall and exhaled a heavy breath, closing his eyes. This was just what he needed. A stowaway.

At least she couldn't hurt anything in there. And she had brought him a weapon. He trudged back to the cockpit, putting her vibroblade on his own belt and then sinking back into the pilot's chair. He checked the navi-computer: they were still on course for Coruscant. So far so good. She would just have to stay back there until he reached the capital.

He lifted the holocube absently, turning it around in his hands, thinking of the message it contained. So Vogga _had_ listened to it. Doubtless Revan now knew of his employment with the Hutt, then. That was a bit humiliating… Revan had probably found the news enlightening. He ran his thumb over one side of the crystal cube, prompting the message to play.

"Hello, Carth…"

He flicked it off again, trying to swallow down the sudden ache in his throat. _Hello, Carth._ She had sounded almost like the Revan he had known before she'd been twisted by the Dark Side, consumed by her want for power. She had sounded almost like Moriel Ithilio, the woman he had loved… the woman he had thought loved him.

He put his head in his hands, the cool side of the holocube pressing into his forehead, and squeezed his eyes shut. _Why? Why couldn't she have just been Moriel? Why did she have to be Revan? If only we hadn't gotten captured… hadn't gone aboard the _Leviathan_… Malak would have never told her…_

_But she would have found out sooner or later_, he argued with himself.

_Later would have been better. Maybe then she wouldn't have gotten tempted by that flaming Star Forge. Maybe Bastila could have instilled more of that Jedi rightousness, and Revan would have been able to resist…_

He laughed bitterly, the sound loud in the narrow space of the cockpit. _What am I thinking? Bastila herself turned to the Dark Side - a lot of good those Jedi teachings did her. For all her talk, all her lectures and speeches… she was just as weak as any of them._

Carth groaned, leaning back in the seat. He really hated the Jedi.

_He stood on the bridge of the _Leviathan_, staring at Bastila, his heart slamming painfully into his ribs, the stars outside seeming to swirl. He staggered, catching himself on a nearby railing. _No. No no no no no no….It can't be true… it isn't possible…_ But even as he violently prayed this was some kind of nightmare, he knew with sickening certainty it was real… much too real…_

_He knew from Saul's dying smirk, from Bastila's shielded expression when he had asked her if it was true._

"_We'll need to unlock the docking bay doors before the _Ebon Hawk_ can leave," Bastila said, keeping her gaze locked on Carth. He read her message loud and clear: drop the subject. But he wasn't about to let her off the hook so easily._

"_I'll see to that," Moriel offered, but she gave both Carth and Bastila a long, curious look before she moved away to the _Leviathan's_ main control terminal. Carth watched her walk away; now that he knew who she _really_ was, it was like seeing a complete stranger. He didn't really know her… after all this time… he had never really known her…._

_Bastila moved to follow Moriel – _Revan_, he reminded himself viciously – but he reached out and caught the Jedi's arm, pulling her around to face him._

"_Carth-" she began, but he was tired of listening to her excuses._

"_Why in the flaming hell didn't you tell me?" he demanded in a vehement whisper, glancing at Revan to make sure she was out of ear shot._

_Bastila also tossed a look in Revan's direction, then pulled her arm away from Carth's grip. "This is hardly the time to talk about –"_

"_No," he snapped, "this is the perfect time. I don't like finding out I've been lied to for the past few months. I want an explanation and I want one _now_."_

_Bastila took a deep breath, obviously steeling herself against his rampage. She glanced to Revan again, but the other woman was still busy over the terminal. Bastila brought her eyes back to Carth. "An explanation? Fine. You didn't need to know."_

"_Didn't need to know?" Carth exploded, barely restraining his voice to a whisper. "What do you mean I didn't need to know? I'm supposed to be serving – protecting – helping - a person I fought against for years… a person I swore to kill! And you're telling me that was something I didn't need to know?"_

_Bastila fixed him with a stern glare. "That's just the point, Carth. How are you supposed to adequately protect her if your feelings for who she used to be keep getting in the way?"_

"_Who she _used_ to be?" Carth shook his head, running his hands through his hair. "I don't _believe_ this. You actually expect me to put my life in danger for _Revan_. The once Dark Lord of the Sith? The person responsible for thousands of deaths, the person who nearly destroyed the Reupublic… I'm sorry, but have you _completely lost your mind_?"_

"_If you want to protect the Republic you will protect Revan," Bastila said coldly._

"_Well, that was easy enough," Moriel spoke up, startling both Carth and Bastila, who turned to face her as she walked back to them. "We're good to go."_

_There was a short, tense silence._

_Moriel looked from Carth to Bastila, but Carth wouldn't meet her eyes. He kept his gaze on the floor, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger boiling within him made his breathing hard and heavy, and he wanted nothing more at the moment than to throttle Bastila for what the Jedi had dared to do. _

_Not only had they lied about Revan's death, both to him personally and to the people of the Republic in general, but they had allowed Revan – a monster, a murderer – to live… to train again as a Jedi, to join the Republic military, to begin rediscovering the very path that had led to her fall in the first place. It was madness… complete and utter madness…._

"_We should go," Bastila said suddenly, shattering the heavy quiet. She gave one last look to Carth before turning to exit the bridge. He went to follow her, but Moriel caught up to him and put a hand on his arm._

"_Carth?" she asked uncertainly. "What's wrong? What did Saul say?"_

_His chest squeezed at the anxiety in her voice, but he refused to look at her. The fact that he had been made to love one of his most hated enemies made him sick, and he jerked his arm away from her touch, quickening his pace to catch up with Bastila and leave Moriel behind._

_

* * *

_

TO BE CONTINUED...

_

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_


	13. A Development

**A… Development**

Revan stood at the Command Center's window on the Star Forge, once again looking out into the blackness of space, bathing in the cold stare of millions of stars. She was alone at the moment, and she used the quiet to meditate, drawing on the Force to see beyond the boundaries of the massive factory she stood within.

There was something out there. She felt it. A great, deep, frigid darkness that reached forward with thin, groping fingers… brushing against her senses, beckoning her toward its embrace. She found it intriguing, inviting… yet at the same time its presence disturbed her. The depth of its power went far beyond that contained even in the Star Forge. To be a part of that power, to possess such power, was something Revan found extremely tempting, but it also brought a flicker of fear to her heart. She had never witnessed anything like this before. And she had a good idea that what she could sense now was only the beginning. To discover the true power of this thing… this presence, she would have to leave known space… she would have to go and find it herself.

But would it be worth it? Her conquest of the Republic was inevitable. They could not stop her now. She knew it as well as they did. Going out in search of this new darkness would mean slowing her attack against the Republic. It would mean leaving the battle plans with her underlings and trusting them to carry out the remainder of the war without her. She wasn't sure she liked that idea. But… if she _were_ to find this presence that lurked in the Unknown Regions… perhaps she would return even more powerful, more unstoppable. It was certainly something to consider.

She sighed, clasping her hands behind her back as she sensed Kreia approaching. Revan opened the doors via the Force before the old woman reached them, and the former Jedi strode through onto the Command Center without breaking stride. She stopped at the base of the stairs, looking up to the Dark Lord with her filmy white eyes.

"You feel it?" Kreia asked.

"Yes." Revan did not turn from the window. "Its pull grows stronger by the day."

"It is the Sith, you know," Kreia replied throatily. "The _real_ Sith. Out there lay many answers… and many questions."

"But if I go…"

Kreia remained silent, but Revan could sense her feelings. "You don't think I would return?"

"That is something I cannot answer."

Revan sighed again.

They stood in silence for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts of what might lay hidden in the Unknown Regions. Another movement in the Force drew Revan's attention back to the activities of the Star Forge. Someone moved along the corridor…

A second later a young Ensign appeared at the doorway of the Command Center, looking nervous and flustered. He saluted hastily, his brown eyes flicking first to Kreia and then to Revan. "Pardon, my Lord," the Ensign sputtered, "forgive me for disturbing you, but there is a Vogga the Hutt from Nar Shaddaa waiting with a transmission for you."

Revan turned slowly from the window, regarding the Ensign skeptically.

The Ensign swallowed hard. "I… I wouldn't have bothered you… but he said it concerned a man by the name of Carth Onasi, and as you said to notify you of any news-"

Revan waved away the man's words. "Yes, yes, Ensign. Patch it through to this terminal."

"Yes, my Lord. Right away!" The Ensign saluted again and ran off down the corridor to carry out her order.

Kreia's mouth pressed into a thin line, but Revan ignored the woman and descended the observation platform's stairs, making her way to the nearest computer terminal.

"Why do you entertain such foolish –"

"You are dismissed," Revan said sharply, warningly, not looking up from typing in her security passcode.

Kreia's eyes narrowed, but without another word she spun away and strode from the Command Center, slamming the door shut behind her with the Force.

Revan rolled her eyes. That woman was getting more and more intolerable… she would have to be watched….

The image of a fat, bulbous Hutt appeared on the screen and Revan turned her attention back to the business at hand. "Vogga." She made her voice as cold and as deadly as she could.

"Lord Revan," Vogga returned in Huttese, giving her a slight nod.

"I didn't expect an update so soon after our last talk," Revan stated, her voice portraying none of the anxiety that now crept through her insides.

"There has been a… development," Vogga said uneasily.

Revan's fists clenched beneath the sleeves of her cloak. "What sort of _development_?"

"Onasi has… stolen my freighter."

Revan lifted one eyebrow. That didn't surprise her at all. Not after learning about how the Hutt had "arranged" for Carth to become a permanent, unpaid employee. "Do you know where he's going?"

"Not yet… but we will shortly," Vogga added hastily at her look of displeasure. "As soon as he drops out of hyperspace the ship will send out a beacon and we'll be able to trace him. It's a safety measure I have on all my freighters, in case of hijackers."

Revan crossed her arms across her chest. "You sent out bounty hunters, I suppose?"

Vogga fidgeted. "Of course… I have a reputation to uphold, after all…"

Revan leaned forward over the terminal, fixing the Hutt with a glare she usually reserved for people about to die at the end of her lightsaber. "You _did_ tell these bounty hunters that he is not to be killed, yes?"

"Oh yes, yes. They were all given explicit instructions –"

"Good. Because if even one of them gets an itchy trigger finger… _you'll_ be the one who pays, understand?"

"Of course, of course, Lord Revan. I understand the terms of our arrangement –"

"I'm certain you do," Revan said, straightening again but keeping her glare locked on the Hutt. "Which is why you'll call your bounty hunters off."

Vogga blinked. "But… but I –"

"Need I send someone to motivate you?"

"Er… no, that won't be necessary…"

"Good. Then do it. And notify me as soon as you have Onasi's location."

"Yes, Lord Revan, I will see to it personally."

Revan smiled tightly. "Your cooperation in this matter will not go unnoticed." She cut the transmission and immediately cued the comlink. "HK?"

There was a short buzz of static, then the droid's voice came through. "Acknowledgement: What do you wish of me, Master?"

"I have a job for you."

"Unhappy Protest: But Master, I was just about to interrogate some of the Jedi we captured on Dantooine."

"Forget them. They can wait. Report to the Command Center at once."

The droid sighed. "Statement: Very well, Master, I am on my way now."

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	14. Empty Space

**Empty Space**

_The flash of lightsaber meeting lightsaber was nearly blinding, the blades moved so fast Carth could hardly tell who was hitting who. He struggled vainly against Malak's invisible stasis hold, desperate to join in on the fight. Moriel may have been Revan once, but he wasn't ready to lose her yet. Not like this…_

_The lightsabers suddenly separated, and to Carth's utmost surprise, Malak turned and ran. Moriel immediately gave chase, hard on the heels of the Dark Lord. Carth tried to call out to her, but the stasis had rendered him mute, and he could do nothing but watch helplessly as her figure grew smaller and smaller until it disappeared around the curve of the corridor._

_All at once Carth's body unfroze, and in his disorientated state he fell. But he recovered swiftly, grabbing his blasters and jumping to his feet again. He looked over at Bastila only to see she had her double-sided yellow blade already primed for action. He gave her a nod, and together they took off full speed down the corridor where Malak and Moriel had disappeared._

"_Well," Carth called out as they ran, "now _she_ knows too. Was that ever a part of your genius plan?"_

_Bastila shot him a glare over her shoulder. "Eventually, yes. But this was a bit premature…" She skidded to a halt at the next intersection, and Carth almost impaled himself on her lightsaber. He sidestepped quickly, glaring at the thrumming blade and swearing that if Jedi were to use such weapons they should learn how to wield them safely._

"_She went this way," Bastila said, sprinting to her right. Carth shook his head and followed._ "_We're very close to accomplishing our mission," Bastila continued, speaking over her shoulder again as Carth struggled to keep up with her pace. "She needs your skills now more than ever."_

"_Revan needs _me_?" Carth spat, somewhat breathlessly. "Does she? She seemed to be doing just fine on her own when she was Dark Lord of the Sith. How sure are you that she's changed, anyway? How do you know she hasn't been playing you, waiting for you to hand her an opportunity to finish off the Republic?"_

_Bastila stopped abruptly in front of a door to their left, and Carth scowled as he once more dodged the end of her blade_. _She turned to face him, meeting his eyes with a hard gaze._ "_I'm sure," she said evenly. "I know. I sense it. But I suppose you have a pretty good idea of it as well."_

"_What is that supposed to mean?"_

_Bastila inspected the door; attempted to open it. It was locked._ _She immediately plunged the blade of her lightsaber through the door, slowly melting a hole in the metal. She glanced over to him as she worked._ "_You two have been getting rather close lately, haven't you?"_

_Carth narrowed his eyes, but he felt his chest tighten. "That's none of your business."_

"_Oh, I think it is. That's why this is bothering you so much, isn't it?"_

_Carth looked away from her, his fingers tightening around the grips of his blasters. "No… I… that has nothing to do with this."_

_Bastila withdrew her lightsaber from the door, having traced a fair-sized rectangle in its middle. She stepped back, then kicked the weakened section of the door through to the other side. The cut piece clanged loudly against the floor and Bastila turned to face him again. _"_It has everything to do with this," she said lowly. "Your feelings for her are dangerous, Carth. They distract you, confuse you. And you can't afford that, not now."_

"_Don't lecture me," Carth snapped, glaring fiercely at her as she bent to duck through the constructed opening. "This whole mess is _your_ fault. You Jedi… you think you know everything–"_

_Bastila straightened quickly, her gaze burning_. "_I know that you two have grown far too attached to each other," she interrupted sharply. "A Jedi should not have such ties –"_

"_Maybe she doesn't want to be a Jedi," Carth blurted. "Did that thought ever cross that selfish mind of yours?"_

_Bastila squared her shoulders. "The Force is strong in her. And she has been letting her passions run unchecked." The Jedi gave Carth a pointed look, and though he felt a flush crawling up his neck he managed to hold her gaze. "Such a combination rarely turns out well. If you truly care for her, you will urge her to follow her Jedi disciplines."_

_She turned and ducked through the mutilated door, once more leading the way._

_Carth followed her through, letting out a bark of laughter. "Care for her? She's not even the person I thought she was..." His words died as the sound of clashing lightsabers once again reached his ears, and despite himself he felt his heart skip a beat. She was still alive…_

_He broke into a swift trot, hugging the wall as they came closer to the noise… they rounded a corner and drew up short. Moriel and Malak still fought ferociously; the red light of their blades and swirling black cloaks made it look more like a dance than combat._

"_Make your decision," Bastila whispered to him, and then she threw herself into the whirling mass of sabers and bodies._

_Make your decision._

Carth hit the floor with a grunt, and more out of instinct than comprehension of what was happening, he drew his blaster and leapt to his feet. The ship shuddered, nearly knocking him down again, and he grabbed the pilot's seat for support. Klaxons blared; all at once the lights went out, leaving the emergency lighting to bathe the cockpit in flashing red. The navi-computer emitted a high pitched beep and Carth stumbled over to it, running a hand over his face and still trying to shake off the disorientation of his dream and the confusion of his awakening.

"UNAUTHORIZED COURSE CHANGE CONFIRMED. INSTATING SAFETY PROTOCOL _GUNDARK 507.2-HI_. AUTHORITIES HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED. PLEASE STAND BY FOR ARREST."

Carth swore, slamming a fist down on the bulkhead. "Vogga! You fat, slimy, double-crossing, prugnuficating gravel maggot! When I get back to Nar Shaddaa…"

The klaxons shut off abruptly, and in the resulting silence Carth heard the engines shut down. The controls in front of him went black as well, leaving only the emergency lights and the navi-computer screen still glowing. Carth stared at the darkened bulkhead. "Oh no. No no no…"

He tried to bring the engines back online, but there was no response. Not even a sputter or a whine. He glanced out the viewport. They had dropped out of hyperspace, but not where they were supposed to. There was no gleaming planet of city lights in front of him. Just space. Empty space with all its empty stars.

He tried entering new coordinates into the navi-computer, but it too had locked up, simply displaying the words: PLEASE STAND BY FOR ARREST. He tried using it to find out where he was, but the screen still didn't change.

"Suns damn it!" he roared, swinging around to punch the back of the copilot's chair. The datapad he had placed on the seat earlier clattered to the floor, and Carth reached down to pick it up, then hurled it at the wall. It struck near the doorway and shattered, pieces of plasteel and wiring flying everywhere. He ignored the mess, pacing around the cockpit, running a hand through his hair.

"Okay, think," he muttered aloud. "_Think_. There has to be some way around this…"

_I believe you've found your way out of worse situations…_

_Just don't say I didn't tell you so when the ship breaks down._

He groaned, knowing he really had no choice. He pulled his blaster and went to get Aayla from the hold.

He had reached the double doors and was about to punch in the security code when he realized the power outage had also taken out the keypad panel. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the wall. _This day just keeps getting better and better. _He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to also punch the security panel. He would have to use a method with a bit more finesse if he was going to get these doors open. But then, he had never been good at lock-picking or code-slicing. That had been Moriel's – _Revan's_ – area of expertise.

He straightened his shoulders, leaning close to the doors, and cleared his throat. "Aayla?"

There was a stretch of silence. He frowned, wondering if the sudden drop out of hyperspace might have injured her. That would be just his luck… He tapped lightly on the metal of the doors. "Aayla?" he called again, louder this time.

To his relief he heard shuffling from within.

"Oh, you're back now, are you?" she said smugly, her voice coming muffled through the door. "So I take it the ship has broken down? Unless that lovely tumble I took was your pitiful attempt at landing…"

Carth gritted his teeth. He really hated admitting when he was wrong. He decided to avoid the subject. "You said you could get around those safeguards, right?"

"Maybe I could have before they shut down the whole ship," Aayla replied sourly. "Now I'm not so sure. Did you happen to see which protocol it was? The navi-computer should have listed it."

Carth closed his eyes in thought. "Something about a gundark…"

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what numbers came with it?"

"Er… no."

He heard her irritated sigh even through the doors. "Well then do you remember whether it had 'HI' or 'SL' after it?"

"Um… I think 'HI'."

"You _think_?"

"I think."

She muttered something in her native language and Carth had an idea it wasn't very flattering. He rolled his eyes, shifting impatiently. "Can you tell me how to fix the ship or not?"

She barked laughter. "Are you kidding? You'd just as soon blow us up as save us. No way, flyboy. You're just going to have to let me out of here."

"Yah…," Carth grimaced, "that's going to be difficult. The power's out; the panel out here doesn't work."

"Lucky for me then that I brought tools," Aayla commented dryly. "In the cargo bay, I brought a bag. Go get it."

Carth narrowed his eyes at the tone of her voice, but went to do as he was told. He was surprised to find her bag also contained several pairs of his clothes and his old combat suit. He pulled out the armor and strapped it on quickly, then rooted through the rest of the bag and removed a small hold-out blaster and vibro-shiv. He hid the weapons in the cargo bay and returned to the secure hold with the rest of Aayla's stash.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Just do exactly as I tell you to."

"Fine. I'm ready."

Using Aayla's rather advanced tools and almost alarming knowledge of wiring, Carth managed to rig a substitute power core to the door panel, allowing him to type in the code and open the hold. The open keypad sparked as the double doors creaked apart and Carth jumped backwards, but recovered in time to point his blaster at Aayla just as she strode from the hold. Her dark eyes narrowed as she spotted him.

"Oh, that's nice. Abandon me to Vogga, lock me in a dark cargo bay for hours with no food, water, or toilet, then point a blaster in my face and expect me to help save your ass. I see how that's logical."

"I told you not to come with me."

"I wish I hadn't." She took a step closer and he lifted the blaster warningly. "I should have left you to the mercy of Vogga's goons I suppose. I'm sure they're on their way by now."

"Guess you'd better get to work repairing the ship then," Carth said evenly.

Aayla crossed her arms. "Not till you put that thing away."

"You're in no position to make demands."

She smiled. "Neither are you."

"I have a gun pointed at your face."

"And without my face I can't fix this ship."

"So I'll shoot you somewhere else."

"Oh, how charming. No wonder you never found a female. Shoot me _anywhere_ and I'll let you rot in space till Vogga's bounty hunters catch up to you."

"Oh, how charming," Carth sneered back. "No wonder all the men you sleep with are gone by morning." He kicked her bag of tools across the floor; it came to rest at her feet. He holstered his blaster, fixing her with a cutting glare, and nodded his head toward the cockpit.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, but she said nothing. She reached down to pick up her bag and swung it over her shoulder as she turned to make her way down the corridor. He followed behind her, his hand resting on his blaster grip, his eyes never leaving her strutting form. He may have been forced into accepting her help, but that didn't mean he trusted her.

"I see you found that armor I so kindly brought for you," she said coldly over her shoulder.

Carth only grunted in reply.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *

. 


	15. Close Encounters

**Close Encounters**

Carth paced restlessly around the cockpit, one hand constantly on his blaster, the other rubbing at the dark stubble that covered his jaw. Aayla had her head buried in the inner workings of the freighter's control bulkhead, her tools scattered out around her. She'd been working for hours now, and Carth's patience was starting to wear thin. A feeling of urgency was building within him, increasing with each passing moment, warning of some impending danger. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, whirling to face the Twi'lek.

"How much longer?"

Aayla stopped tinkering and wriggled out from under the bulkhead. She sat up to fix him with a glare. "You don't have to sit there and watch me, you know."

"I'm not sitting, I'm pacing - and there's no way I'm leaving you in here alone."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't trust you."

She rolled her eyes. "So what exactly am I going to do? Call Vogga and let him know where you are? By now he already knows. Besides, I don't want him to find _me_, either. I don't think he'll believe my story a second time."

Carth squinted. "A second time?"

Aayla grabbed another wrench-like tool. "Yah. I tried leaving a few years ago with another pilot who wanted to get away from that slimy Hutt. Of course, that one _wanted _me to come with him." She gave Carth a pointed look and scooted beneath the open panel once more. "Course, that was before I knew of these safeguards. The ship dropped out of hyperspace in the middle of nowhere, a few hours later there were bounty hunters all over us. He was taken back to the compound… I never saw him again. Not really sure what happened to him… something unpleasant, I'm sure. I told Vogga I'd been kidnapped, managed to avoid being executed… barely. But I don't think he'll buy that excuse again."

Carth stared. "Fantastic. So if we're caught I can look forward to being accused of stealing his freighter _and_ one of his dancers."

Aayla twisted to look at him from beneath a forest of exposed and stripped wires and smiled. "Oh no. I would never do that to _you_. You're Carth Onasi. Republic soldier. Man of honor and all that. This other guy was a sleaze."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"At least _he_ didn't lock me in the cargo hold."

"Yah, well I've been betrayed a few too many times to take any more chances."

"Oh cool it, soldier. You're not the only one Fassa and Vogga have set up. I've seen it happen so many times I lost count."

Carth clenched his jaw. "I see. And you didn't see fit to warn me of this little fact?"

Aayla sighed loudly, crawling out from under the bulkhead once more. She stood up, tossing her tools aside, and put her hands on her hips. "Of course not. Why should I have? You've done nothing but treat me like Core-slime since you met me."

Carth dropped his eyes to the floor, a wave of shame washing over him. But he'd had good reason to disslike her... "Well, maybe if you weren't constantly trying to jump into bed with me..."

She shrugged."It gets me what I want. Usually. How do you think I found out how to override the safety protocols? Besides, I needed Vogga and Fassa to set you up so I could hitch a ride off that rock."

"So you used me?" His anger began to boil to the surface again.

"I wouldn't put it that way."

"No?" Carth growled. "How would you put it, then?"

Aayla walked to stand in front of him, crossing her arms across her chest and fixing him with an even gaze. He met her eyes, hand on his weapon, but he refused the urge to take a step backwards. "I paid for my passage," she said quietly, nodding toward the bandage on his arm. "If not for me you likely would have lost that arm to infection by now."

"I never asked you to –"

"Maybe you didn't," she cut in firmly, "but lucky for you that I did. And lucky for you that I came aboard, otherwise you'd be a sitting gizka out here now, just twiddling your thumbs till those bounty hunters started crawling in through your airlocks."

Carth swallowed hard, realizing she had a point but still unwilling to admit it.

"You're not the only one who's been double-crossed," Aayla continued softly. She pulled up her sleeve to reveal a whitened scar identical to the brand mark Carth had received. "And you're not the only one who has unfinished business outside of Vogga's compound." Her eyes were cold and deadly serious, and a silence stretched between them as Carth took in the meaning of her words.

At last he cleared his throat, looking over toward the viewport and away from her steady stare. He nodded. "I'll, uh… I'll be around… if you need anything. Just let me know when you're finished here."

"Thank you."

Carth nodded again, then turned his back on her and left the cockpit. She wasn't going to call Vogga. And maybe that was all that mattered.

"_Hellooo? Mission to Carth, are you still playing or what?"_

_Carth shook himself from his brooding thoughts and brought his attention back to the Pazaak cards laid out on the table in front of him. He blinked at them, then looked at the cards in his hand, seeing the numbers but not really registering what they were. He started to put a card down, then hesitated. His gaze drifted back to the cantina door._

_Mission sighed, shifting impatiently in her chair. "Carth! Play already!"_

_He startled. "Oh, sorry." He put his card down, then made a face as he realized it wasn't the one he'd meant to put down. "Whoops."_

_A wide grin spread across Mission's face. "Ha! That's two out of three for me… looks like you'll be the one scrubbing off that carbon scoring after all."_

"_Damn." He picked up his cards and restacked his deck. "Would you care for a rematch, by chance?"_

_Mission snorted. "You'd just lose again… no offense, but an amateur could get the best of you today."_

_Carth grimaced. "Yah… I guess I have been sort of distracted…" He glanced to the cantina door again._

"Sort of_ distracted?" Mission repeated in disbelief, also gathering up her cards. "More like _very_ distracted. You're worried about her, aren't you?"_

_Carth dropped his eyes to the cards in his hands, shuffling them absently. "I don't like being left behind," he admitted reluctantly. "I don't like not knowing what's going on." _

"_I wouldn't worry too much," Mission said brightly, "Moriel can take care of herself. We've all seen how she can fight. And besides, she's got that droid and Bastila with her. She'll be fine."_

_Carth leaned forward, dropping his voice so he wouldn't be overheard by other patrons of the cantina. "It's that droid I don't like. There's something… odd… about it. I don't like not being able to keep an eye on it."_

"_But it can speak the language of the Sand People," Mission said. "No one else around here can do that. Not like Moriel had a choice…"_

"_That's another thing I don't like," Carth said, fidgeting in his seat as he tossed another look to the door. "Who in their right mind walks into an encampment of Sand People _voluntarily_? That's suicide!"_

"_But if the droid can translate –"_

"_But what if something goes wrong?" Carth interrupted urgently. "It'll be the three of them against hundreds of Sand People." He shook his head. "This plan has too many flaws… I never should have agreed to it… I never should have let her go without me…"_

"_You care about her a lot, don't you?"_

_Carth looked up to Mission abruptly, taken aback by the question. He straightened in his chair. "Well… yes… I suppose so. I mean…I care about everyone on the _Ebon Hawk_ – er, okay, maybe not _everyone_, but most of them. I don't want to see anyone get hurt, and I most certainly don't want to see anyone get killed."_

"_But I've seen you and Moriel when you're together," Mission continued. "And both of you get that look, you know? Almost like that look my brother Griff used to get when that tramp Lena was in the room… only… you both share it…and it's in a good way… not like when that skank Lena was around. You know what I mean?"_

_Carth shifted uncomfortably, suddenly wishing he had some excuse to leave the table. He felt his face grow hot and cleared his throat. "Actually I'm not sure what you mean, Mission. I think you're seeing things."_

"_Hey, you don't have to get all defensive on me. Just telling you what I seen, is all. I don't mind you two having a thing for each other… I think it's sweet."_

_Carth slapped his deck onto the table. "Moriel and I do _not_ have a 'thing' for each other, okay? And I'd appreciate you not spreading any rumors to the others by talking about it."_

_Mission lifted her eyebrows, pretending to inspect the corner of one of her cards. "Well… okay. But I'm not the only one who's noticed you coming out of her room some mornings."_

_Carth stood from the table so fast he nearly knocked over Mission's drink; she yelped and snatched her Pazaak cards from the table as blue liquid sloshed from the glass. He motioned toward the bar. "I'm just going to go and uh, get another drink… see what kind of information I can gather…get my mind off of worrying…"_

_Mission watched him go, stifling a giggle. She turned back to the table and shook her head at the mess, then pocketed her Pazaak deck and went to see what Big Z was up to._

Carth sat at one of the tables in the freighter's galley, staring out the small round window on the wall across from him, lost in thought. A ration bar still lay unopened in front of him; he had tried to occupy himself by eating, or sleeping, or cleaning his blaster, but it seemed no task could pull his mind away from worrying. They had been here too long… Vogga's bounty hunters would be getting close now… he couldn't allow himself to be taken back…. He needed to contact the Republic. If he could only reach them, they could send a transport and some gun ships….

He stood from the table, intending to find Aayla and see if the freighter's communications were working yet. But just as he reached the galley's doorway a loud thunk sounded from outside and the freighter rocked in response, throwing Carth against the wall. He caught himself on the doorframe, a shock of adrenaline stinging his limbs. He froze, listening. Two more thumps shook the ship and Carth swore, taking off toward the cockpit just as he heard Aayla yelling.

"Carth! Get up here quick!"

He staggered into the cockpit to see Aayla bent over the bulkhead, frantically flipping switches and pressing buttons. He had opened his mouth to ask what was going on when a small ship zipped by the viewport, firing a green laser blast as it passed. The freighter shuddered again as the blast hit, and Carth startled as a klaxon began blaring. He raced to join Aayla at the controls.

"What are you doing? Can we fly yet?"

Aayla looked at him, her eyes wide and anxious. "Not yet."

"Not yet?" he repeated, instinctively ducking as the smaller ship outside zoomed past overhead. "You've been working at it for hours! How long is it going to take?"

"Well I would have been finished a long time ago if I had been able to see which protocol it was!"

"I told you it was gundark-something –"

"Yes, and the _something_ part is what I need to know!"

The ship fired on them again and Carth caught the pilot's seat for balance. "Suns damn it! We don't have any shields – what is he trying to do, blow us up? I thought Vogga would want us alive…"

Aayla shut off the alarm and flipped a few more switches. "First preference, yes. But that ship outside may not even be one of Vogga's. Could be they're just trying to see if anyone's home…"

A burst of static ripped through the cockpit and Carth jumped, but then words began to flow from the com's speaker. "Attention captain of bulk freighter, you will prepare to be boarded. You will offer no resistance. Should you attempt to fight or to flee, your ship and crew will be destroyed."

"You got the com to work!" Carth said, looking over to Aayla in fascination.

She nodded absently. "Yah, now talk to him while I try to get the other systems online."

"But… but we should call the Republic, they can send a transport –"

Aayla shook her head. "They would never reach us in time. And besides if you don't say something soon this guy outside is going to fry us. Now talk. Stall him. I have to have time to get the engines online."

Carth started to protest, but Aayla vanished beneath the open panel again and another blast nearly threw him off his feet. He muttered a curse and sat down in the pilot's seat, queing the com as he did so. "Um… this is the captain speaking, look, whoever you are, we won't give you any trouble, just stop firing on us."

"Do not attempt to flee. Prepare to be boarded."

Carth rolled his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, we're having some trouble with our ship. We couldn't go anywhere even if we wanted to. All systems are down, we just got the coms to work… the airlocks aren't going to work –"

"You're futile attempts to stall the inevitable will not work."

Carth sighed. "Well, okay, but I'm telling you the truth. We won't be able to control them –"

"Then we will blast them open," the voice replied.

"Er… okay…" Carth cut the connection and turned to Aayla. "Any chance you're almost done?"

"Getting there," she replied.

Carth took a deep breath, switching the com back on. He was just about to warn against such a rash action when a pair of scarlet laser blasts streaked across space and hit the small ship he had just been talking to. It exploded in a brilliant orange fireball, leaving behind only a few fragments of melted shrapnel. Carth blinked, then craned his head around to try and see the new arrival.

But this second ship did not waste time with talk. Carth couldn't see it, but he heard the familiar creaks and thumps as the outside ship docked with the freighter. "Oh, great," he muttered, then more loudly, "Aayla, we're about to have company."

"I just need a few more minutes…"

"You stay here and keep working, I'll go see if I can intercept them." Carth drew his blaster and started for the doorway, then stopped. He unbuckled the vibroblade from his belt and went back to lay it on the ground next to the Twi'lek. She glanced to him in question.

"In case things get messy," he said. He turned to leave.

"Carth?"

He stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder.

"Just be careful."

The concern in her voice surprised him. He nodded to her in reply, then took off at a jog toward the airlock.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	16. The Prize

**Author's Note:** A Zabrak is the same species as Darth Maul and Eth Koth of the prequel Jedi Council in case any of you have forgotten. Bao-Dur from KotOR 2 was also a Zabrak. The number of horns a Zabrak has can vary, apparantly, and although many Zabrak have facial tattooes, the pattern depends on the individual. Just a little background for you... hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks so much to all of my loyal readers for keeping me going!

**EDIT:** Sorry to confuse anyone, but I decided to change the name of this chapter from "Siege" to "The Prize", as I thought that fit better. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

**

**The Prize**

Carth pressed his back to the wall, holding his blaster in both hands, his body tensed and ready to act. He could hear the intruder working on the other side of the airlock, but at least this one wasn't trying to blast through. It sounded more like they were working along the lines of Aayla's methods, using cross-wiring and a portable power system. And they were almost through. He braced himself, trying to keep an open mind about who might come through the door. He was expecting some kind of bounty hunter; anyone else likely would have tried communicating first, like the first unknown ship had, but he had learned long ago that to make assumptions about one's enemy put you at a disadvantage.

A shower of sparks spurted through the crack between the airlock and the wall, and a second later the door hissed open. Carth held his breath, trying to make himself as small as possible, and waited. A tall figure stepped through the doorway into the darkness of the hall, and in the dim glow of the emergency lighting, Carth recognized the ten-horned head of a Zabrak. This one looked to be wearing minimal armor; but the long, black leather trench coat did little to hide the impressive set of long-barreled blasters hanging on his belt.

Carth stepped from his hiding place abruptly, leveling his blaster at the Zabrak's back. "Stop right there or I blow a hole through your skull."

The alien froze. Carth's finger hovered on the trigger, ready for any sudden moves the stranger might make. But the Zabrak didn't move for his guns. Instead he turned around very slowly to face Carth, a malicious smile curving his lips.

Carth tightened his grip on his blaster. He had met Zabraks before, and all of them were a bit unsettling, but this one looked especially frightening. The red and yellow eyes gleamed with greed; the grin plastered on the tattooed face seemed nothing less than feral.

"You must be the runaway slave," the creature said, his low voice sounding more like a growl. "Carth Onasi, is it?"

"I think you've got the wrong ship," Carth bit off, keeping his gaze riveted on the bounty hunter's body movements. "There aren't any slaves aboard this freighter. So why don't you just go on back through that airlock and leave?"

The Zabrak's mouth twitched, and then to Carth's surprise, he laughed. "You humans amuse me. Always so bold."

Carth saw movement at the bottom of his vision and fired, but by then the Zabrak had already ducked. The bounty hunter straightened again and spun around in a kick that caught Carth's outstretched hand, knocking the blaster flying. The soldier immediately dropped into a fighting stance, but the Zabrak had anticipated this move and Carth found himself looking down the muzzle of a long-barreled blaster.

The bounty hunter smiled again, baring pointed teeth. "Foolish to try and fight me, human. I have never lost to one of your kind."

Carth glanced to his blaster lying several feet away, then back to the Zabrak, trying to calculate his chances. "Things can change," he said gruffly.

"Don't you know who I am?"

Carth squinted at the alien before him, but then shook his head. "Can't say that I do. But then… you're kind do all sort of look the same."

The bounty hunter's eyes narrowed. "The name is Siege. Veeren Siege."

Carth's jaw tightened. He _had_ heard of Siege, and it was nothing pleasant, either. But he didn't want to give the scum the pleasure of fame. He pretended to think on the name. "Siege…? Hrm, can't say that rings a bell. Sorry to disappoint you."

Siege shrugged. "No matter. But I do have a reputation to uphold. 'Siege always delivers', as they say -"

The slow, heavy whine of warming engines interrupted the Zabrak's speech, and Carth felt a leap of hope in his chest. Confusion flickered briefly across the bounty hunter's face and Carth took the chance. He kicked out in the same way Siege had done earlier; the heavily modified blaster sailed into the air and landed with a thud far down the corridor.

Carth lashed out with a fist and caught Siege in the jaw; the bounty hunter staggered but immediately retaliated, landing a fist in Carth's stomach. Carth doubled up, gasping for air, and received a blow to the face that knocked him sprawling onto his back. He lay dazed on the floor, staring at the ceiling, but then Siege's tattooed face eclipsed his view. Carth rolled laboriously to his side, prodding gingerly at his burning nose and wincing as his fingers came away bloody. He heaved himself to his hands and knees and crawled quickly toward his blaster.

A hand caught his shirt and dragged him backwards. He twisted around, kicking out with one leg and sweeping Siege's legs out from under him. The bounty hunter crashed to the floor and Carth jumped on top of him, wrapping his hands around the Zabrak's throat.

The red and yellow eyes were livid now… one of Siege's hands came up and grabbed Carth's branded arm, the fingers digging hard into the tender skin beneath the bandage. Carth cried out but refused to release his death grip on the bounty hunter's neck. He gritted his teeth against the pain, ignoring the stinging tears that bit into his eyes, the voice in his head that begged him to make it stop…

Something hard cracked into Carth's right temple and white flashed across his vision; the next thing he knew he stared up at the ceiling again, his head throbbing and another blaster pointed at his nose. Siege smiled down at him, but this time the bounty hunter's eyes remained cold and vicious.

"Nice try, human. Now get up. I want to see who else you have on this boat."

Carth didn't move. His head still hurt too badly.

Siege reached down and caught the front of Carth's combat suit, yanking the soldier to his feet. Carth swayed, leaning on the wall for support, but no sooner had he regained his feet then Siege pistol-whipped him again. The soldier hit the floor on his hands and knees, squeezing his eyes shut and barely choking back the nausea that threatened to overcome him.

Siege grabbed a fistful of Carth's hair and forced the soldier's head up. The bounty hunter holstered his gun and with his free hand reached down to pull the bandage off of Carth's arm. Another greedy smile painted the Zabrak's face at the sight of the half-healed burn. "Ah. Seems there _is_ a slave aboard this ship after all."

Carth mustered the most hateful glare he could manage.

"Now…," the bounty hunter purred, "who else have you hidden on this freighter? Anyone of value?"

"Just me," Carth croaked. "No one else."

Siege looked at him for a second, then struck him across the face, sending Carth back to the floor. The soldier lay still for a moment, grimacing at the taste of blood. He spit onto the floor and tried to get back to his knees, but the hallway rocked around him and he collapsed back to the ground.

"I didn't build a reputation by being stupid," Siege said quietly, kneeling beside Carth. "I know you've got someone else aboard this junk-bucket. Someone who knows about starships, seems like, given the fact they've obviously overridden Vogga's hijacker programming. I must admit, in all the years I've been tracking down that Hutt's runaway slime, I've never seen that happen. Lucky you to get a hold of someone like that. And lucky me to find you both. I'm sure Vogga will be keen on eliminating such a knowledgeable person. Might even give me a bonus for bringing them in."

"You're wrong," Carth said, wiping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "There's no one else here."

Siege grunted. "We'll see about that." He reached down and seized a handful of Carth's sleeve, pulling the man to his feet and shoving him down the corridor. Carth moved as slowly as he could, making as much noise as possible in the hopes that Aayla would hear him coming and have time to prepare for a fight. She was his last hope now… if she could take the bounty hunter by surprise, they would have a good chance of defeating him….

Siege pushed him into the cockpit and Carth stumbled, catching himself on the bulkhead. He looked around wildly, relief washing over him as he realized Aayla was gone. The panel beneath the flight controls still hung open, her tools still lay strewn across the floor, but her vibroblade was missing. Carth saw the navi-computer was up and running again; noticed Coruscant's coordinates had been re-entered. He barely bit back his smile as he turned around to face the Zabrak.

"Told you. No one else here."

Siege looked around the cockpit, his eyes darting between the instruments, the chairs, the tools…

Carth saw a blur of motion from the doorway; Aayla moved so fast even Siege didn't realize she was there until her blade slashed across his back. The bounty hunter let out a howl of rage, spinning around to meet her next attack, stopping her second strike with the barrel of his remaining blaster.

She snapped the Zabrak's head back with a blow to his chin and followed with a roundhouse kick that threw Siege back into the copilot's chair. Carth snatched a pair of wire cutters from the floor and brought them down across the side of Siege's face as hard as he could. The bounty hunter dropped like a stone and didn't move.

Carth stood over the Zabrak's prone form for a second more, the wire cutters held high, waiting to see if Siege was really out. Aayla came to stand next to him and Carth looked over at her. "Nice job."

She shrugged. "You too." Her eyes wandered over the soldier's face and she frowned. "You look like hell."

Carth blew a breath through his teeth. "I feel like hell."

Aayla gently took his chin in her fingers and turned his head from side to side, studying the swelling bruises on his temples. She winced at the sight of them. "He hit you twice?"

"More then that, actually," Carth said wearily. "But twice with the end of that damned blaster."

"I should see to those cuts."

Carth pulled his face from her touch and moved carefully to the pilot's chair. "It can wait. We need to get out of here before more of his kind show up. What are we going to do with him, anyway?"

Aayla glanced down to the Zabrak. "I say dump him out the airlock."

"Fine with me. But that means we'd have to drag him back there…"

An urgent beeping sounded from the navi-computer and Carth's words faltered. He looked at the read out, then blinked several times to make sure his splitting headache wasn't making him see things. "No, don't tell me…."

Aayla looked up to him fearfully. "What is it?"

"Another unidentified ship on approach. A one-seater… G-wing, it looks like."

"Bounty hunter."

"Probably. We need to get out of here. _Now_."

"What about him?" Aayla nodded toward Siege.

"He'll just have to come along for the ride until we can dump him off somewhere else." Carth primed the hyperdrive motivators, turning the normal lights back on as he did so. He had reached for the hyperspace lever when a deafening blast sounded through the cockpit, causing Carth to leap from his chair. He whirled to face Aayla; she stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth open in a silent cry. Her vibroblade clattered to the floor, her hands going to cover the spreading spot of red on her side.

Carth stared, horrified, as she dropped to her knees. Behind her Siege lowered his smoking blaster and got to his feet. Carth was frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch as the bounty hunter reached down and picked up Aayla's weapon. The Zabrak came to stand beside the Twi'lek, looking down at her and then over to Carth.

"Well now, isn't this interesting?" Siege murmured. "Found yourself a piece of pretty, did you, Onasi? And a piece of pretty who knows how to program starships… even better. Vogga will like this story, I think."

Carth stepped forward but Siege brought up the vibroblade, holding the point at Carth's throat, and the soldier drew up short. "Listen…," Carth began slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Siege's face and trying to ignore Aayla's expression of pain as she crumpled to the floor. "I know some people… I'll double whatever Vogga promised you, just… just let us go."

The bounty hunter grunted in amusement, advancing a few steps so that Carth was forced to back against the wall, trapping himself between Siege and the bulkhead. The vibroblade hovered dangerously close to his skin, but he had no where else to go…

"You already lied to me once, Onasi," Siege hissed. "You think I would trust you now? And what would become of my reputation if word got around that I took bribes from my targets?" The Zabrak shook his horned head. "I'm afraid that'd be bad for business."

Carth glanced to Aayla, feeling his heart wedge in his throat at the sight of how much blood oozed from her wound. She needed medical attention, and quickly. "I'll triple the amount," he blurted, bringing his eyes back to Siege. "No one else needs to know. Tell Vogga the freighter was gone by the time you got here –" He stopped as Siege lifted the blade warningly; its humming edge was now far too close to Carth's neck for the soldier to feel comfortable speaking. He held his breath.

"Perhaps you didn't understand what I just said," Siege growled. "Besides, only the girl is going to Vogga. I'm taking _you_ to someone else. Someone far more important. Someone with far deeper pockets." He smiled at Carth's confused look. "That's right, Onasi. Seems you've drawn the attention of none other than Lord Revan herself."

Carth felt the color drain from his face, his heartbeat quickening.

"It was Vogga who originally hired me to track you down, of course," Siege continued conversationally. "But a few hours later the Hutt contacted me again and told me the job was off. That's not normal for a Hutt. And I don't like being toyed with. So I did a little digging… found out Revan's the one pulling the strings." The black lips parted in a toothy grin. "Surprise, surprise. And of course after that… how could I resist going after the prize?"

Carth stared, but he no longer saw the bounty hunter in front of him. His mind raced with this new information. Had Revan been behind everything he had gone through this past year? Was she in league with Vogga? Had she planned this from the beginning? Or had she just recently learned of his employment with the Hutt and manipulated the situation to her advantage?

The sound of metallic footsteps coming down the corridor pulled him from his thoughts and his gaze shifted to look over Siege's shoulder. The Zabrak turned as well and Carth immediately ducked under the vibroblade, snatching the blaster from the bounty hunter's other hand and dropping into a roll. He came up standing with the blaster pointed at Siege, but before he could fire, a blue beam shot from the cockpit doorway and struck the bounty hunter in the chest. Siege collapsed in a heap, obviously stunned.

Carth swung around to face the newcomer in the doorway and hardly registered the fact he recognized the droid before he fired off two blasts from Siege's gun. The bolts splashed harmlessly against an energy shield, and then HK-47 fired a return shot. Carth attempted to duck, but the beam caught him in the shoulder and immediately his body went numb; he crashed hard into the floor.

HK stepped into the cockpit, his glowing yellow eyes looking down at the three incapacitated humans at his feet. He shook his head. "Weary Statement: Meatbags… you just never seem to learn…"

The droid focused on Carth. "Observation: It is a good thing my Master sent me after you, meatbag, otherwise that bounty hunter would have damaged you further. Statement: I was not expecting you to have company, however." HK's eyes wandered to Aayla, who still clutched at her side, her breathing harsh and skin damp with sweat. "Statement: She is badly damaged. Lament: Oh, how fragile your organic structures are."

Carth willed his fingers to tighten around the blaster grip still resting in his palm, but his muscles wouldn't obey. He could do nothing but lie there and glare up at the assassination droid.

"Statement: A shame that her vitals are too weak to endure the Silencer. Extrapolation: I am sure my Master would be very interested in learning your significance to this female… and in learning this female's significance to you." HK turned to Carth again, the yellow eyes brightening malevolently. "Thought: I do believe _your_ vitals are strong enough to survive an interrogation, however. Query: Perhaps I could _persuade_ you to tell me about this female before I contact my Master?"

Carth fought vainly against his temporary paralysis, but his body remained completely unresponsive to his mental commands.

HK cocked his head to one side. "Admission: Oh my, I had forgotten the neural pacifier renders you incapable of speech. Appeasement: No matter, I do have one method which should override the paralysis enough to allow for a full confession…"

The droid's left forearm casing whirred open ominously, and Carth never thought he'd be wishing so hard for Siege to wake up.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

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	17. Variables

**Author's Note:** Really sorry that this chapter took so long to post, things got really busy with graduation and the upcoming holidays! Thanks for being patient and I hope the rest of the fic will be updated in a more timely manner. I hope you continue to enjoy this story and Merry Christmas!

* * *

**Variables **

_Moriel sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor of the port dormitories on the _Ebon Hawk_, hands on her knees and eyes closed. Her breathing was deep and slow as she reached out for the Force, seeking its presence and guidance as she had been taught by both Bastila and the Masters at the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. She had done this many times before now; it had been her way of calming herself after battles, of relieving stress after close escapes. But today… today something was wrong…._

_The usual soothing touch of the Force seemed far away. Instead there seemed to be a rift before her… a small, dark river of coldness… she could just barely touch it with her mind, but it was there. And it hadn't been there before._

That's it_, she thought detachedly. _That's what I felt at the enclave…

_Abruptly her mind put her back in the middle of the Sand People's encampment, and she saw them once again rushing toward her and her comrades; gaffi sticks raised high… hoarse, barking war cries echoing over the stretching sands…_

_There were hundreds of them. They came from all directions, and no matter how many she slashed down with her lightsabers, more of them appeared, seemingly born of the sand itself. She saw HK-47 in her peripheral vision. His energy shielding fizzled out, and several Sand People leapt on top of him, knocking him to the ground in their fervor. Moriel swung around to Bastila only to see the Jedi staggering backwards under the onslaught of at least ten tan-robed creatures. She opened her mouth to cry out to Bastila, but just at that moment a gaffi stick caught Moriel in the back of the knees and knocked her to the ground._

_The Sand People overwhelmed her… she felt her lightsabers ripped from her hands… Bastila screamed… the gaffi sticks rained blows all over her body, and no matter what she did she could not protect herself…_

_But Moriel did not want to die. She drew upon the Force without consciously realizing it; a great, dark power rushed through her body, making her gasp in its intensity, and with a gruff cry she threw out her hands, releasing her rage through her fingertips._

_The Force lightning was blinding; the Sand People swarming around her screamed briefly, but they were dead before they hit the desert floor. Moriel surged to her feet, her body nearly tingling with the sudden power that had overcome it. She released another lightning blast that fried every Sand Person within a ten meter radius, freeing both Bastila and HK-47 from their entanglements._

_The droid slowly picked himself from the sand, his yellow eyes flickering as he quickly activated another melee shield. Bastila didn't move from her defensive position; she stared at Moriel with a horrified gaze, her mouth hanging open in shock. Moriel ignored the reaction of her fellow Jedi, calling her lightsabers to her hands as she heard the approach of several more Sand People._

_She turned to face them, still feeling the flow of that strange, cold current within her. She lifted her hands, drawing on that power, and the oncoming Sand People suddenly fell to the ground, screaming and writhing in agony. Moriel drew in a sharp breath as the energy of their life force seemed to rush in through her skin, healing her injuries, increasing her own strength… Her mind suddenly became acutely focused, her muscles tireless, and the movements of her enemies slowed. At that moment, Moriel Ithilio felt invincible…_

_A soft knock at the door abruptly drew her from her meditation. The images in her mind vanished; the dark current she had been trying so hard to reach whisked away like smoke in the wind. Moriel gritted her teeth in frustration at the interruption but opened her eyes and twisted around to look at the door._

"_Come in," she called._

_The door hissed open to reveal Carth Onasi, and at the sight of him Moriel unfolded herself from her sitting position._

"_I'm sorry… am I interrupting?"_

_Moriel shrugged as she stood up, walking over to retrieve her weapons belt from where she had placed it on the bed. "Sort of. But it's all right. I was having trouble concentrating anyway." _

"_Yah… that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about…" Carth stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him, and Moriel sent him a suspicious glance as he walked across to stand beside her. "You and Bastila have been acting a little… odd… since you came back from your mission."_

_Moriel met his gaze as she buckled her belt around her hips, trying to get a read on his thoughts. He had that look on his face again… the one he got every time he thought he was being left out of the loop. She forced herself to give him a small smile. "Well, what do you expect? The mission didn't go exactly as we planned…"_

"_I told you it was a bad idea to go out there."_

"_Yah…," Moriel dropped her gaze to the floor, "I guess you were right this time."_

"_So what happened?"_

_She looked up to him again, but hesitated in answering. She couldn't tell him what she had felt. He would never understand. Yet she couldn't bear to lie to him, either. She cleared her throat, moving away to sit on one of the bottom bunks. "We tried to talk to them about their harassment of the people here," she explained quietly. "But there was a misunderstanding. We were attacked and had to defend ourselves."_

_He gave a nod, following her over to the bunk. "That's understandable."_

_Moriel kept her eyes on her lap, appreciating his effort to put her at ease but knowing hecould never guess the truesignificance of what she had done."Yes," she admitted,"but we… we killed them... _all_." _

_Carth sat down next to her, and a short silence stretched between them. "The Sand People are a very aggressive race," he spoke up finally. "You only did what you had to do."_

I did more than that_, she thought to herself. _I enjoyed it at the end. How can murdering people feel like a sport?

_Outwardly she only nodded wordlessly. There was another short silence, then Carth sighed, reaching out to grasp her hand. The gesture made her look over at him, and the seriousness of his dark brown gaze concerned her._

"_Moriel," he said slowly, his voice low, "I've seen you kill before. I've seen you fight many a battle since I first met you on the _Endar Spire_. But never once have you come back from one so distracted. I know something happened… something none of you are telling me. I trust you more than anyone else on this ship, and coming from me you know that means a lot… but I don't like being left in the dark. I want to know what happened at that enclave. And I want to know now."_

_Moriel held his steady stare, recognizing all too clearly the warning in his tone. Carth tolerated no secrets. She could already feel his emotional barriers going up again, could sense his wariness and growing suspicions even as he sat there holding her hand, waiting to be told the truth._

I felt it, Carth. I felt the Dark Side. I wielded it… I was invincible… I killed them all…

_No, she couldn't tell him the truth. At least, not entirely…_

_She swallowed hard, squeezing his hand, looking back down to her lap as her heartbeat quickened with the memory. "I… I used the Force," she began hoarsely. "I used it in a way I never knew I could…" She had to stop herself from blurting out exactly what she had done. The magnitude of the power she had felt had been exhilarating, and she wanted nothing more than to share that experience. _

_But she already knew how Carth would interpret her actions. And that's why she couldn't tell him. She didn't want to lose him now, after all they'd been through…_

_Carth frowned, moving closer to her on the bed. "Is that… bad?"_

_Moriel shook her head, meeting his eyes again. "No," she whispered. "Not bad. It saved our lives. But… it was different. Much more powerful than anything I've done before."_

"_What did Bastila say about it?"_

_Moriel shook her head. "Nothing. I think she was as surprised as I was by it."_

"_But… is that normal? For a Jedi to… do… what you did?"_

"_I don't know."_

_Carth's free hand brushed her cheek, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. "But you're okay now, aren't you?" he asked, his forehead lined with worry. "You're not hurt or anything?"_

_She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "No. Just a bit off balance."_

"_Maybe you should talk to Bastila."_

"_I don't think so. At least, not now. Maybe later."_

"_Promise you'll go talk to her about this soon?"_

_Moriel sighed. "All right," she reluctantly conceded. "If it will get you to stop worrying."_

_He gave her a smile. "As long as you're the one planning these missions, I don't think I'll ever stop worrying…"_

Revan opened her eyes as the soft beeping of her com terminal interrupted the silence of the Command Center. She unfolded herself from her cross-legged meditative position and walked languorously over to the computer station, smiling as she recognized HK-47's hailing code. She pressed the ACCEPT button; an image of the droid sitting in the pilot's chair of a strange freighter flickered into view.

"Do you have a report for me, HK?"

The droid dipped its head in acknowledgement. "Affirmation: Indeed, Master. Statement: I have located and incapacitated the meatbag Carth Onasi as you instructed, Master."

Revan ignored the brief flutter in her chest. "Very well. You may proceed as planned, then."

HK's eyes blinked. "Statement: There may be a few obstacles in the way of that plan, Master…"

Revan's eyes narrowed. "What obstacles?"

"Clarification: Upon finding the meatbag Onasi, I discovered he traveled with another… a female Twi'lek by the name of Aayla Surra."

Revan's grip on the keypad tightened.

"Statement: A bounty hunter by the name of Veeren Siege was also aboard the freighter by the time I arrived."

"A bounty hunter?" A flare of anger lit in her chest. Hadn't she told Vogga more than once to call off his mercenaries?

"Affirmation: Yes, Master. Statement: It seems Veeren Siege intended to bring the meatbag Onasi to you himself. Theory: Perhaps he believed you were the one who originally put a bounty on Carth Onasi and wished to collect the reward. Statement: It seems he had access to someone who knew you had spoken to the Hutt Vogga…"

"Do you know who it was he spoke to?"

HK lowered his head. "Negative: Alas, I do not know, Master. Statement: I have attempted to use the Silencer to induce a confession, but it seems the device is not as effective on non-human organics."

Revan frowned.

"Query: Do you wish me to kill him, Master?"

She sighed, shaking her head. "No, don't kill him. Bring him here. I want to show him what happens to people who get in the way of my plans."

The droid's eyes shone. "Statement: Yes, Master, with pleasure!"

"What about this Twi'lek, Aayla Surra?" Revan asked, forcing her voice to be casual. "Who is she?"

HK's eyes dimmed again. "Answer: She is one of Vogga's slaves, Master… a dancer in the Hutt's court."

Revan rolled her eyes. Carth and his fascination with Twi'lek dancers… she had thought he was over that, with all the time they had spent together… "And were you able to find out _why_ she was with Onasi?" This time she didn't bother to cover the harshness in her voice.

"Affirmation: I did indeed, Master. Explanation: She stole aboard the ship as the meatbag Onasi left Nar Shaddaa. Statement: She was the one who repaired the freighter and almost allowed Onasi to escape my detection. Statement: According to him, she has harbored lustful feelings for him throughout this past year, and although she helped him in the fight against the bounty hunter, he still remains suspicious of her true intentions."

Revan nodded. That was Carth, all right. But suspicious or not, she still didn't like the thought of him running around with a lustful female Twi'lek. Not entirely trusting someone hadn't kept him out of Moriel Ithilio's bed, and she wasn't quite sure it would keep him out of Aayla Surra's bed, either. Just the thought him rolling around with that dancer made her hot with rage.

She closed her eyes, resolutely shoving the mental images from her mind. _That won't happen_, she assured herself. _I won't allow it._

"I suppose you incapacitated this Twi'lek, as well?" Revan asked.

"Statement: There was no need for me to, Master. Explanation: The bounty hunter had wounded her quite badly before I arrived. Prediction: If she does not receive medical attention soon, I believe her inefficient organic life will come to an end."

Revan raised her eyebrows, thinking over this new information. Perhaps she could use this to her advantage… "HK, I want you to stabilize the Twi'lek. But leave her with Onasi."

"Query: You do not wish me to bring her to you as well?" The disappointment was evident in his tone.

Revan gave the droid a smile. "Don't worry, HK, you still might get the chance to eliminate her. But first I want to find out more about their… relationship."

HK tilted his head to one side. "Statement: I will instigate another Silencer session with the meatbag Onasi if you wish, Master."

Revan lifted her eyes from the console, gazing off into the distance as she thought. "No… that won't be necessary. Bring that bounty hunter to me and stabilize the Twi'lek, then proceed according to our previous plan."

The droid nodded once. "Acknowledgement: It will be done, Master." His image winked out, and Revan sighed heavily. She didn't like the thought of that dancer and the bounty hunter on the freighter. They shouldn't have been there, and these days she despised surprises.

But she shook herself from her brooding, readying the communications terminal to record her next message to Carth. _It doesn't matter_, she told herself. _The plan will proceed. Variables along the way can be taken care of. _

Still, she couldn't help but be annoyed at how flustered the Twi'lek's presence had made her feel.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	18. Homecoming

**A/N:** Happy New Year! Back to the good ol' short chapters, but more should be coming along pretty quick. Thanks so much for continuing to read and I hope you enjoy!

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**Homecoming**

Carth groaned thickly, first becoming aware of his throbbing head. He lied very still, trying to remember where he was and what had happened. The ground beneath him was hard and uncomfortable, and somewhere there were voices talking. He tried to understand what they were saying, but he couldn't get his mind to focus. He pried his eyes open, blinking in the light, and winced as the aches and pains of the rest of his body drifted into his awareness.

He swallowed in a dry throat, moving his fingers experimentally. Where he wasn't bruised, he tingled, a sensation he had an odd feeling he'd had before, though he couldn't remember when or where. He heaved himself over onto his side, then grimaced as the nausea hit him. He squeezed his eyes shut, barely choking back the bile, and moaned again. He didn't think he'd ever felt this miserable in his life. Even his first Tarisian ale hangover hadn't been this bad….

He forced his eyes open again, then frowned at the sight of the body lying on the floor not far from his head. It was a blue-skinned Twi'lek; the entire left side of her body was dark with blood. He felt his heart wedge in his throat, seeing the long-barreled blaster lying close to his hand. Had he shot her? Had someone _else_ shot her? He glanced around at his surroundings, checking for another person, but the room was empty.

He drug himself carefully across the floor to the Twi'lek's side, pressing his fingers against her neck to check for a pulse. Her heart beat steadily beneath her skin, but it wasn't nearly as strong as it should have been. He swore, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes against the stabbing in his skull. The girl needed help, but he wasn't in any condition to give it to her.

"This is Coruscant Air Traffic Control to the bulk freighter _Ootmian_," a voice came over the com speakers. "Please acknowledge your given decent route. If you do not acknowledge, we will be forced to send an enforcement squad to your coordinates. I repeat, this is Coruscant Air Traffic Control…"

Carth blinked. _Coruscant?_

And very suddenly, he remembered everything: his escape from Nar Shaddaa, discovering Aayla, being stranded in empty space, the arrival Veeren Siege, the arrival of HK-47, the first shot from the Silencer….

_Aayla_… He turned back to her, wincing at the look of her blaster wound. But she seemed to be doing better than she had been last time he'd been conscious. At least her breathing had evened out...

And Siege was no where to be found. Nor was HK-47. Carth had to admit his current situation felt far too convenient. _How the hell did I get here?_ But he didn't have time to analyze it at the moment. The only thing that mattered now was the fact they had reached Coruscant, and Siege and HK were gone.

Carth wasn't going to waste this chance.

He got slowly to his hands and knees, crawling over to the pilot's chair and using it as leverage to pull himself to his feet. He swayed for a moment, then leaned over as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He nearly fell into the seat, squinting at the lights of the controls and wishing they weren't so bright. He reached forward and activated his side of the com, then cleared his throat.

"This is… this is Captain Carth Onasi," he croaked, fighting down the nausea again. "Copy the decent route… I'm heading down now…" He took hold of the steering yoke, manually guiding the ship along the coordinates listed out on the navi-computer, using all his concentration to keep from passing out again.

The com hissed static briefly, and then the official responded. "Captain… Onasi?" the man repeated. "Carth Onasi? The Captain Onasi who fought in the Mandalorian Wars?"

"That's right," Carth ground out, thinking this was not one of those times he wanted to be recognized.

"They put out an MIA on youover ayear ago," the official continued, his voice somewhat awed. "Everyone thought you'd been killed…"

"No, not yet," Carth replied, his patience swiftly fading. "But I'm going to need a medic as soon as I touch down. And I'll need to speak to Captain Nigel Riffman. Think you can arrange that for me?"

"Yes, sir. Of course… I'll contact the Captain immediately. And I'll have a medic standing by… sending you landing coordinates now…"

"Acknowledged," Carth said. He switched the controls over to auto-pilot, deciding the rather bumpy ride through the atmosphere would probably be too much for him to handle at the moment. He slipped from the pilot's chair, kneeling beside Aayla again and frowning. She didn't look good.

He pulled the small first aid kit from it's holder beneath the bulkhead, rummaging through it in search of something to use on her wound. The bleeding had slowed, but she needed something to help clean it out… he found a kolto patch and ripped it open. Carth cursed both his shaking hands and his light-headedness as he placed the medicated bandage over her ragged burn and looked out the viewport. He could see the pale dome of the mesosphere approaching, but wasn't sure he could fight off the blackness creeping across his vision much longer.

_Just hang in there, Onasi_, he told himself. _Just a few more minutes. You have to be conscious when you land… you need to be there to explain things…_

He startled as the com unit let out a series of tones and looked over at the small, square vid-screen to see MESSAGE WAITING flashing on the monitor.

Carth frowned. A message? That meant it had been pre-recorded. And who would send him a pre-recorded message? Who would even know where he was? And whoever did know where he was, _why_ would they send him such a message? Or perhaps the message wasn't even meant for him…

His curiosity piqued, Carth crawled over to the base of the com controls and activated the screen, prompting the message to play. To his complete and utter shock, an image of Revan appeared, and his entire body went cold at the sight of her. His heart suddenly beat so hard in his throat that he could barely breathe, much less hear her words.

Just as she had done in her holocube message, she smiled at him. Gently. Kindly. Yet something in her eyes still sent a shiver down his spine.

"Hello again, Carth," she said lightly. "I must say I was disappointed to hear you'd fallen in with a Hutt. But I suppose times were tough, weren't they? Your good ol' Republic didn't come for you then, I take it? A shame."

Carth gripped the side of the pilot's chair beside him, his fingers digging deep into the cushion.

"I also heard about you trying to run off with Vogga's freighter." She shook her head, clucking her tongue as if scolding him. "Sloppy, Carth. Of course I understand your feelings toward the Hutt… but you can't expect to win by playing fair with a creature who doesn't know the meaning of honesty."

_Vogga's not the only one who doesn't know the meaning of that word_, Carth thought bitterly.

"I spoke to Vogga for you," Revan continued conversationally, "and he has agreed not to pursue you. He's called off his bounty hunters as well. As I'm sure you've also noticed by now, I had HK set a course for Coruscant in the _Ootmian_'s navi-computer. I guess this means you owe me one." She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Enjoy the rest of your ride, Carth."

She winked, reaching for the button to turn off the recorder. But at the last second she paused, leaning toward the screen, the smile still frozen on her face. "Oh, and do say hello to Aayla for me."

Carth's mouth fell open. The screen went black.

He stared at it for a long second more, his thoughts so jumbled that his mind went blank. He couldn't make sense of anything anymore… The freighter jarred as it plunged into Coruscant's atmosphere and it was all Carth could do to keep himself upright. He clutched at the pilot's chair, gritting his teeth as the ship roared down toward the stretching sea of skyscrapers and city lights, and prayed the outdated shielding on the freighter's hull would hold against the heat.

The bright sunlight of mid-afternoon nearly blinded him as the _Ootmian _broke through the light cloud cover and soared toward the landing site. The buildings around him became a blur; Carth focused only on the skyhook directly ahead. The skyhook with waiting Republic Medical Transport… with waiting Republic military personnel…

_Good job Traffic Control. Should have gotten that kid's name… _

_Almost there, almost there…_

The freighter slowed, hovered, and eased down onto the circular dock with far more grace than seemed possible for its age and size. Carth didn't wait for the ship to settle before he turned to make his way to the boarding ramp. He had to prop himself against the wall for support as he walked; his headache grew worse by the minute… but the thought of being able to finally see familiar and mostly trusted faces kept him moving. He hit the button to lower the ramp and staggered to the top of it, nearly falling into the arms of the medics who rushed up at once to help him.

They lowered him carefully to the ground, and though he tried to fight them, Carth felt himself slipping away into unconsciousness. "The cockpit," he managed to slur out in the buzz of commotion that suddenly surrounded the ship. "A girl… she's hurt…"

One of the medics said something to him, but the words were muffled and came from far away. "Now," Carth forced out. "Now… go help her now!" To his relief, more medics from below rushed past him into the ship. He looked out to the gathered military, seeing many faces he recognized. But there were also many guards. With guns.

_Standard procedure_, a voice spoke in his head._ Can't blame them for being careful… you went missing for a year…_

He closed his eyes. _But I'm back now. Finally. I'll tell them what happened. I'll help them get to Revan…_ He let himself fall into a quiet darkness.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	19. The Truth

**A/N:** This chapter wasn't supposed to take so long, but one of my kitties passed away and I really didn't feel like writing for several weeks afterwards. It was also very difficult to write in general, so I hope it came out all right and doesn't disappoint after you had to wait so long for it! More coming relatively soon.

* * *

**The Truth**

Carth listened to the voices around him, only vaguely aware of his consciousness. He felt relaxed and comfortable, and given how badly his head had been hurting last he remembered, he didn't want to do anything that might interrupt this current repose. He lied very still, keeping his eyes closed, drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The voices were like something from a dream, and they faded in and out of his awareness:

"… ship's log shows they came from Nar Shaddaa. The freighter is actually registered to a Hutt called Vogga."

"But the Hutt hasn't sent out any alerts for a stolen vessel?"

"Not that we've picked up."

"… doing on Nar Shaddaa, anyway?"

"I guess we'll have to ask…"

"… what was _she_ doing on Nar Shaddaa…"

"We'll probably never know. Intelligence likes to keep its activities under wraps…"

"Is he awake yet?" a new voice spoke up, and its familiarity startled Carth out of his near sleep.

"No, sir. Not yet," one of the other voices answered. "But he should be coming around any-"

"I'm awake," Carth said gruffly, his words surprising even himself. He pulled his eyes open with some difficulty, looking up into the concerned faces of three Republic officers. One wore a long white lab coat and was obviously the doctor from the passcard hanging around his neck. The other was a younger man, a lieutenant from the look of his insignia. And the third was the person Carth had been looking for.

Captain Nigel Riffman. Except… he wasn't a Captain anymore…

"Carth!" Nigel leaned over the hospital bed, an expression of relief crossing his bearded features. "It's about time! How do you feel?"

Carth frowned, mentally assessing his physical condition, and shrugged. "Actually, I feel great… sir," he added awkwardly, taking a second glance at the Admiral's pin on his friend's uniform. "How long was I out?"

"Two days. Doc said you were fine, but you just kept sleeping."

Carth looked around the room. The lighting had been dimmed, but he could just barely make out the rest of his surroundings. It was a standard military infirmary, and he was the only one in it. "You'd be surprised how long it's been since I've had a decent night's sleep," he said absently, suddenly remembering Aayla. He turned to look up at Nigel, his brow furrowed in apprehension. "There was a Twi'lek on that freighter with me. Did you find her? Is she okay?"

The three men exchanged a glance; Nigel cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. "Her condition was a bit more critical than yours, but we've stabilized her. She should be fine."

"Where is she?"

"In a separate infirmary," the doctor spoke up. "We thought it would be better to keep her in a quieter spot."

Carth looked around the room again. "Right. Because I see this one is flooded with activity." The sarcasm in his tone was impossible to miss.

The three men looked at each other again, and then Nigel smiled down at Carth. "Do you feel up for a walk?"

Carth narrowed his eyes at his old friend, thinking the smile looked too forced. "Yah, I think so," he answered cautiously. "Where are we going?" Carth caught himself disregarding the man's rank again and swiftly corrected himself. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking, sir?"

Nigel's smile softened and he chuckled, shaking his head. "Forget rank for now, Onasi. I'm just Nigel today. And to answer your question, we'll go to my office. You've been gone a long time; I'd like to catch up. As a friend," he added, then sighed heavily, his smile fading. "Unfortunately, I'm not the only one who'd like to speak to you about the past year, but I figure we can save those unpleasantries for later."

"Thanks," Carth muttered, unwilling at the moment to think of the many grueling hours he'd likely have to spend in debriefings during the next few days. He'd forgotten about that part of returning to Coruscant….

He sat up slowly in the bed and the doctor immediately moved to help him. "Just take it easy," the man suggested, sending Admiral Riffman a pointed look before turning his attention back to Carth. "You took a few good blows to the head and I don't want you overdoing it."

Carth nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I don't think I'll be running laps just yet, doctor," he commented, brushing his fingertips over the knots still gracing his temples. "I'd rather not have a headache like that _ever_ again."

The lieutenant walked over to a nearby table and came back with a neatly folded pair of standard-issue training clothes. He handed them over to Carth, who took them reluctantly. "Where's my armor?"

"You won't need it here," Nigel answered. "But we have it. We'll return all of your things as soon as everything is cleared up."

"Everything is cleared up?" Carth repeated. "What the hell does that mean?"

Nigel gestured to the clothes. "Get changed first. Then we'll go to my office and I'll explain."

"Right."

The doctor pulled the curtain around Carth's bed, allowing him some privacy while he changed out of the infirmary gown, and a few minutes later he found himself following Nigel down a brightly lit, painfully white corridor. There was silence between them for a long while, until at last Carth couldn't stand the quiet.

"I don't remember this place being so deserted."

Nigel glanced over to Carth, giving a sad nod. "The fight with Darth Revan has drawn most of our resources away from the Core. This base is operating on a skeleton crew… and hardly even that, I'm afraid." The man paused briefly. "But you won't see many other people in here. We're in the secure section."

Carth looked over to his friend sharply.

"Don't look at me like that, Carth. You know procedure. We thought you were dead, for stars' sake." They came to a door; Nigel opened it by punching in a code and waved for Carth to step through. The soldier did so, looking around the sparse and very organized office within briefly as he moved to sit on a nearby chair. Nigel closed the door behind them, walking around to his high-backed seat behind his gleaming metal desk and sitting down.

Carth shifted uncomfortably in his own hard chair, thinking this was a place built for efficiency, not comfort. He hoped they wouldn't be here long… although he had a sinking feeling that explaining the events of the past year to his superiors would be a little harder than he had originally thought.

He cleared his throat, trying to find a position on the chair that didn't hurt his back. "So… how long have you been an Admiral now?"

Nigel smiled. "Only a few months. I wish the promotion had been under better circumstances, however." The man dropped his dark eyes to his desk, his expression sobering. "We're losing a lot of good people in this war, Carth. Lieutenants are becoming Admirals in a matter of months… and not because they're especially brilliant." Nigel shook his head, lifting his eyes to meet Carth's gaze again. "The scary thing is we're losing. We're losing, and there's just nothing else we can do about it."

Carth held his friend's stare for a long moment, swallowing hard. He had heard reports of Revan's victories while on Nar Shaddaa, but he had not completely realized how serious things had become for the Republic until just now. The look in Nigel's eyes was chilling… not just because it held a frightening level of resignation, but also because of the accusation that had unmistakably flitted across the dark depths.

"Don't say that," Carth nearly snapped, standing from his chair and pacing back and forth in front of Nigel's desk. "You're an Admiral now for stars' sake, soldiers and civilians both are going to be looking to you to bring them through this. You can't give up! Besides, I know where Revan is… I know how to get aboard the Star Forge…" Carth swung around to face Nigel, leaning forward over the desk to fix his friend with an urgent gaze. "Give me a strike team and a ship. I'll get us in there… we'll take her out once and for all."

Nigel stared at Carth, then let out an amused snort. "Are you serious? Carth… you've been missing for a year… we have no idea where you've been or what you've been doing-"

"Don't you?" Carth asked, his anger suddenly flaring. "What do you think this is, then?" He pulled up his left sleeve to reveal Vogga's brand. "I sure as hell haven't been taking a kriffing vacation!"

"Carth, no one said –"

"You want to know where I've been? On Nar Shaddaa. And what have I been doing? Aside from trying to find a way to contact some member of the military and a transport off that miserable rock, of course, I was stuck in slavery to a filthy Hutt!"

"You said you tried to contact us?"

"Yes! Of course I did…"

"Did you ever manage to get through?"

Carth ran his hands through his hair, resuming his restless pacing. "My direct-link code had been disabled, I assume because I was thought dead or compromised. And I didn't get many chances to use the public com consoles without being overheard or tapped by someone. But yes, I eventually got through… once. I talked to an Admiral Terramen. He said a transport would be coming to pick me up three days later… but none ever came. After that I… I just figured I had been written off. I didn't try again."

Nigel frowned, pulling a datapad from one of his desk drawers. "Admiral Terramen, you said?"

"Yes," Carth answered wearily. He didn't like to remember that incident. He'd stood at the docks for nearly two days, vainly hoping the transport was just running behind schedule. But it hadn't come….

"When did you talk to him?"

"Three months, two weeks and four days ago exactly."

Nigel glanced up to Carth, then back down to the datapad. He scrolled through several lines of data, then slowly lifted his gaze from the small screen. "Carth… Admiral Terramen and his ship were reported captured by Darth Revan four standard months ago."

Carth snapped his head up, staring at his friend. "What?"

"If it really was Admiral Terramen you talked to… he was probably under Darth Revan's influence. Your transmission never reached anyone still in the fleet."

Carth sat down hard; the mix of disbelief and bitter amusement circling in his chest made him feel ill. _She played me. Again. That's amazing._ "You have to let me go after her."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that's possible."

"Why not?"

Nigel leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him and turning very serious. "Why don't you tell me everything that's happened to you since the day you transmitted the Star Forge coordinates to us a year ago?"

Carth blinked. "Are you interrogating me?"

Nigel sighed. "I just want to know what happened. Off the record."

Carth watched his friend for a moment, seeing another flicker of suspicion cross the man's face. "You think I've been helping Revan, don't you?"

Nigel dropped his eyes to his hands. "Not… necessarily," he answered hesitantly.

"Unbelievable." Carth stood from his chair again, but didn't know what to do next. He couldn't even think of anything else to say. To have fought for so long on the side of the Republic… to have sacrificed so much in the name of preserving it… and then to have the very people he had fought alongside doubt his loyalty….

"Look, Carth," Nigel continued, "we've been friends since before the Academy. I know you… I know how you felt about Revan and Malak, about Saul… I know what you lost because of them. I don't believe for a minute that you would ever willingly help Darth Revan."

Carth turned away from Nigel, closing his eyes. "But…?"

"But… not everyone knows you like I do. There was talk of… of putting you in the brig, of an interrogation led by Intelligence as soon as you regained consciousness. But lucky for you I was promoted. I managed to convince several influential people that such a severe course of action wasn't necessary. They agreed to let you stay here, in the secure section, and to let me talk to you first."

Carth turned around to face Nigel again. "All this because I was out of contact for a year?"

"Not just because of that…"

Carth crossed his arms, lifting his eyebrows in question. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

"Well… you traveled with Revan for several months –"

"I didn't know it was her!" Carth protested immediately. "Neither did any of you! No one but the flaming Jedi knew who she really was..."

"Yes, and Bastila joined Darth Revan. As did the Mandalorian and that droid you had mentioned."

"What's your point?"

"What happened to the others you were traveling with?"

A lump formed in Carth's throat and he tried to swallow it down, dropping his eyes to the floor. "Revan murdered them," he whispered.

"Yet somehow you escaped?"

The lump in his throat got bigger; Carth felt tears sting his eyes and he walked over to one wall, pretending to study the framed certificates of accomplishment hanging there. _I should have stayed on that beach. I should have made sure Mission and Zaalbar followed me. I could have helped them… I should have been the one to die there, not them…._ The tears welled over his lashes and he swiped them away quickly with the back of his hand. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice as he spoke. "I… I ran for cover when I discovered Revan's intentions to take the Star Forge for herself. I told the others to follow me, but... they didn't. I didn't think Revan would _kill_ them… by the time I realized what was happening it was too late. There was nothing I could do."

"You couldn't stop Revan from reaching the Star Forge?"

Carth grunted. _They have no idea what it was like…_ "No. Trust me, if there had been anything I could have done, I would have."

"During the time you traveled with Revan, did you happen to ever discuss… military strategy?"

"Sometimes," Carth answered cautiously, looking away from the certificates and back to his friend. "When it was necessary. But Revan mostly dominated any planning. You know as well as I do how good she is at that. Of course, at the time I didn't realize where her talent came from."

"She outmaneuvers us at every turn," Nigel admitted. "It's like she reads our minds."

"She's a strategic genius. And now she has Bastila's Battle Meditation on her side."

"Yes, I know." Nigel ran his hands over his face. "But you don't understand. She knows all of our moves. And as soon as we think of something new she beats that too."

Carth narrowed his eyes, finally catching on to what Nigel had to be suggesting. "They think _I_ gave Revan some of our battle tactics?"

"Not just you, Carth… there's been so many captured by Darth Revan that –"

"I never told her anything!" Carth spat vehemently. "Have you forgotten that Revan was once a part of the Republic navy? We probably taught her all those tactics –"

"She never reached the rank of Captain," Nigel interrupted. "Her access to such things would have been severely restricted –"

"But she was a _General_ in the Mandalorian Wars," Carth insisted. "She would have been included in all military briefings –"

"We've changed our strategy many times since then, Carth, and you know that."

"Well she didn't get any strategy from me. And I refuse to believe that any captured soldier of the Republic would give her any of that information, either!"

"Not _willingly_, no. But she has to be getting information from somewhere."

Carth remembered the Silencer and winced, knowing that painful device couldn't be the only one Revan had at her disposal. And as much as he hated to think it, he realized even the most stubborn of soldiers would have a hard time resisting the temptation to talk after going through something like that.

Nigel cleared his throat, drawing Carth from his brooding thoughts. "Carth… how did you get to Nar Shaddaa?"

Carth walked back to his chair, thinking carefully about how he should answer. He sat down, leaning forward on his elbows, and decided honesty was probably the best option at this point. "Revan sent me there," he murmured. "On one of her ships. I was unconscious for the ride, though." The unpleasant memory of being choked by her Force grasp flooded back to his mind.

"Unconscious? How did that happen?"

Carth sighed. "I was on the _Ebon Hawk_, trying to send the fleet a transmission warning them of Moriel Ithilio's true identity, trying to warn them that she had turned back to the Dark Side. She ambushed me before I could send the message. I got off a shot, but there's not much a blaster will do against one of the most powerful Dark Jedi in the galaxy." Carth sat back in the chair. "Next thing I knew I woke up on Nar Shaddaa."

"Why didn't she kill you like she did the others?"

Carth shook his head, keeping his eyes on his hands. "I don't know." But even as the words left his mouth he could hear Bastila's voice ringing in his head: _I know that you two have grown far too attached to each other… she has been letting her passions run unchecked..._ He pushed the Jedi's words from his mind resolutely. Revan could not possibly still harbor feelings for him… she wasn't even the same person anymore… the Dark Side had corrupted her, twisted her mind and hardened her heart….

There was a short silence, and Carth heard Nigel open and shut another desk drawer. He looked up only to see his friend setting a small crystalline cube next to the datapad. Carth stiffened, desperately hoping that wasn't what he thought it was.

"We found this in the _Ootmian_'s cockpit," Nigel said quietly, indicating the holocube. "We also found another message to you from Revan in the com's memory while going through the ship's logs."

Carth felt a flush crawl into his cheeks, his heartbeat quickening in dread. This didn't make him look good….

"Does Darth Revan usually make a habit of contacting you?" This time a note of cynicism slipped through in Nigel's voice.

"No," Carth answered firmly, putting his head in his hands. "Only those two times."

"How do we know that?"

"Because I'm telling you," Carth snapped, lifting his head again to glare at his friend. "And if you've listened to those messages you should know that I'm _not_ in league with her… willingly or unwillingly!"

"Yet she spared your life at the Battle of the Star Forge."

"And sent me into slavery!"

"And then helped you get here, apparently."

"If you're asking me to fill you in on her motivation, I can't help you."

Nigel pulled the datapad toward him again, punching a few buttons to bring up a new screen of information. "Revan now completely controls the Outer Rim, Carth. She's left no inhabited planets unconquered… except Telos."

Carth's heart beat even harder against his ribs as he processed this information. "There's hardly anything left on Telos," he croaked. "There'd be nothing of interest for her there."

"Perhaps not," Nigel consented. "But Malak also destroyed the surface of Taris, and Revan still visited there. She left several garrisons behind when she left, too."

"Taris has an Undercity," Carth said breathlessly. "I doubt it would have been affected by the bombing. The garrisons were probably meant to control that population."

"Maybe. But you must admit that Revan claiming every Outer Rim planet except your own homeworld looks suspicious."

"It can look suspicious all it wants; it has nothing to do with me!"

"But you _have_ been in Darth Revan's custody –"

"Only once."

"Did she question you during that time?"

"No."

"Did any of her subordinates question you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Nigel!" Carth stood, beginning to pace again, and rubbed his forehead. His headache was starting to come back. "I think I'd remember if they'd questioned me."

"Carth… were you ever subjected to any kind of… torture?"

Carth stopped pacing.

Nigel waited a moment, but at Carth's continued silence he went on. "When Doctor Beckett first examined you, he found evidence of extensive tissue damage. Not severe enough to be permanent," the man added at Carth's alarmed look, "but enough to concern him. He said the damage was indicative of some sort of energy weapon… and that it would have been very, very painful."

Carth stuck his hands in his pant's pockets, frowning in thought. He had never considered the physical after-effects of the Silencer before. "They never asked me any questions," he said finally, quietly.

"It's possible that while under the influence of so much pain –"

"I said they never asked me –" Carth stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering his last conversation with HK-47. He could hear the droid's words as clearly as he could recall Revan's holocube message: _I do believe _your_ vitals are strong enough to survive an interrogation… Perhaps I could _persuade_ you to tell me about this female before I contact my Master? I do have one method which should override the paralysis enough to allow for a full confession…_

Carth felt the blood drain from his face.

_Oh, and do say hello to Aayla for me._

The room rocked around him and Carth reached out to the chair for support, feeling as if the air had been suddenly crushed from his lungs. "Holy suns," he breathed. "Oh holy suns…"

"What?" Nigel asked, at once sounding alarmed. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

Carth couldn't answer. The implications of what he had just discovered were far too horrible. _That's how she knew about Aayla. I told her. But I don't remember… I don't remember anything… who knows what else HK might have asked…_

"Carth?" Nigel stood from his seat, moving around the desk to go to Carth's side. The soldier leaned over, looking like he was about to be sick, and Nigel put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Do I need to get Dr. Beckett in here?"

Carth shook his head, taking deep, slow breaths to try and calm himself. "Nigel…," he said gruffly, "I… I _was_ questioned. At least once. But I… I have no memory of what they asked… or what I might have said…" He dropped into the chair, covering his face with his hands. "Son of a schutta… I could have given her strategy, layouts, codes, locations…" He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, swallowing hard and shaking his head. "Everything you said could be true…"

Nigel looked down at his friend for a moment, then squeezed Carth's shoulder. "That's what we were afraid of."

"You should have let them put me in the brig," Carth muttered miserably.

"You know that's not necessary. Had you been around for this last year you would have made Admiral long before me. Your service record speaks for itself - you've earned a great deal of respect within the fleet. No one _wants_ to believe you betrayed the Republic intentionally… we'll just show them the facts. They'll have no choice but to recognize the truth."

_The truth? I could have betrayed the Republic and I don't even remember._ Carth clenched his jaw, feeling sick again.

"Besides, you know what a smooth-talker I can be," Nigel said. "It'll be just like our days back at the Academy… you get into trouble, and I get you out of it." The man attempted a smile, clapping Carth on the back.

But Carth didn't share in his friend's optimism. _Oh no, Nigel_, he thought sullenly. _This is way over your head. Even for an Admiral._

_Enjoy the rest of your ride, Carth._

He gritted his teeth, making a promise to himself: When this was all over with, soldier still or not, he _would_ find Revan. No one and nothing could stop him from that now… not even the Republic.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	20. Inevitability

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter took so long, it was interrupted by having to move. Yuck. But now that's all over with, so here you are!**MANY THANKS to Rian Sage**, who helped me **immensely **with this chapter! The next one is almost finished already, so hopefully it will be coming shortly. Hope you enjoy!

******

* * *

Inevitability**

Revan stood on the bridge of the _Leviathan_, her stance wide and arms crossed over her chest, just as she had used to do when contemplating her next victory during the Jedi Civil War. Her eyes swept the broad expanse of glittering stars before her. The Mid Rim… her next step in conquering the galaxy. She had already dealt with the Hutts, whose territory lay on the border between the Outer Rim and the Mid Rim. They had been… reluctant, at first, to concede control to her. A few well-placed blasts from the _Leviathan_'s turrets, however, had quickly convinced them that handing their government over to her was the right decision.

Her fleet was now en route to Bothan space, a confrontation that Revan expected to be one of her most challenging thus far. Hutts could be manipulated by their greed; most humanoid species by fear. The Bothans, however, were known to be especially strong-minded and valiant, believing that dying for a greater cause was a noble death indeed.

She had found, however, that the best way to defeat a populace – or even better, win their voluntary allegiance – was to discover their strongest belief and exploit it. If the Bothans wished to behave heroically, she would just have to be sure they did it on her behalf. She had found plenty of planets already disgruntled with the ways and rulings of the Republic… with a little more convincing on her part, their planetary governments almost always chose to join her crusade of their own free will. She had a fair idea the Bothans were no different. As a species they did, after all, have an innate desire to continually advance their own personal power. She simply had to play on these traits… make sure the Bothans understood _her_ cause to be the greater cause, make sure they clearly saw all that could be gained by allying with her….

"Lord Revan?" a hesitant voice spoke up, drawingher back from her thoughts. She did not reply, but turned slowly from the windows to face the officer who had alerted her to their guest's regained consciousness.

Her hard gaze drifted from the officer back to the bounty hunter on the floor before her. He struggled to his hands and knees and she lifted her eyebrows in surprise, thoroughly impressed. The Zabrak had already endured several torture sessions in his force cage while waiting to meet with her, and now she had treated him to three long streams of Force lightning. The third had rendered him unconscious quite quickly, but his tolerance for the pain was remarkable.

She graced the humanoid with a cold smile as he pushed himself to his knees and then rose slowly to his feet, swaying precariously for a moment before regaining his balance.

"Well?" she prompted. "What is your answer to my offer, Veeren Siege?"

The Zabrak's eyes flicked around the bridge, resting briefly on Bastila, the nearby Elites, the officers at their stations, and finally Revan. His breathing was harsh; she saw him swallow, felt him fight his fear, his pride… until at last he made a choice.

"I work for money," he said hoarsely. "Not favors."

The bridge was deathly silent, but tension hummed against Revan's Force-senses like a living being. The surrounding officers pretended to carry out their duties, as if the scene taking place at the observation deck was of no interest to them. But Revan could feel their attention keenly focused on her reaction to the bounty hunter's words. She could nearly taste their anxiety, their fear, and for some – their eagerness. She used their emotions to fuel the flow of the Force around her, drawing on its power, its strength.

She moved toward Siege, circling him slowly, fixing him with a steady glare. He didn't look at her, but stared straight ahead, his fists clenched at his sides, his breathing still heavy.

"Favors?" she repeated. "You consider being allowed to leave this ship alive a favor? You gamble with your life most lightly, Veeren."

"If you want Onasi, I'll get him for you," Siege said shortly. "Half the payment now, half when I bring him to you. "

Revan snorted, highly amused by the boldness of this creature. "You are in no position to make demands, bounty hunter. My Elites could retrieve Onasi just as easily as you could. I'm afraid you are painfully disposable at this point."

"No," Siege said firmly, and many of the nearby officers couldn't help but turn their heads to stare at him. "If I was so disposable you would have killed me already. There's a reason you brought me here. You want me to get him for you."

Revan came to a stop in front of the Zabrak, studying the tattooed face. He had surprised her once again; his perceptiveness was to be admired…and his bravery commended. She clasped her hands behind her back, granting him a nod in consent. "So you are not a fool." She turned to look out at the blackness of space. "You are correct… I _do_ want you to be the one to retrieve Onasi. I want you to go because my Elites behave like Sith, and I do not want a Sith signature on this kidnapping." Revan turned back to face the bounty hunter, fixing him with a steely glare. "But you would be very, very wrong to think of yourself as anything but a tool to me, do you understand?"

Siege's eyes lowered to meet Revan's cold blue stare. "I don't care what I am to you," the bounty hunter growled. "Long as I get my money."

Revan's glare narrowed, but the Zabrak did not drop his gaze. She felt a flare of irritation at his show of defiance before such an audience, and without further thought, she brought the Force down around his throat with brutal vigor. His hands immediately went to his neck, searching for the constriction but finding nothing. Revan allowed the barest of smiles to touch her lips as the bounty hunter's rebellious expression swiftly changed into one of alarm.

"I don't think you understand, Veeren," Revan nearly whispered, her tone icy. "I might _prefer_ you for this job… but I most certainly do not _need_ you." She tightened her Force-hold on his throat and he gagged, dropping to his hands and knees. Revan began circling him again, watching his vain attempts to breathe, taking pleasure from the panic she felt building within him. _So this is who you really are_, she thought scornfully. _For all of your pride, your defiance… when faced with death you're still like any other…_

Revan gave a grunt of satisfaction. She had not yet found a person she couldn't break; a person she couldn't persuade, one way or another, to see her point of view.

_Except for one..._

The anger that shocked through her at the thought reinforced her grip on the bounty hunter and he gave a strangled cough. Revan quickly pushed such thoughts from her mind. She had other things to accomplish at the moment… she loosened her hold on Siege just enough for him to gulp in a bare thread of air, which he did greedily.

"You should care what you are to me," Revan continued, her voice edged, "because I tend to eliminate people who get in my way, especially those that aren't useful to me. And if you are not a tool that helps me accomplish my goals…_ you_ are not useful. A bounty hunter with the skills to gain access to a Republic facility on Coruscant to retrieve a person of interest to me is useful." She stopped circling, standing in front of him and tightening her hold once more. "A bounty hunter who foolishly believes he has the power to make demands of people far superior to him is not so useful. Do you see my point?"

Siege nodded hastily; the veins in his forehead standing out beneath the colors of his facial tattoos.

Revan sustained the Force choke for a few seconds longer, until she sensed many of the officers around her believe she was really going to kill him. But at last she released him; he sucked in air so quickly that he fell into a coughing fit, one hand still on his throat as if he were afraid she would seize him again at any second.

She waited a moment for him to catch his breath, for the realization to sink in that he was only alive because of her mercy. "Very well," she said at last. "You may speak to my apprentice Bastila about payment. But I warn you… your skills are worth little to me, and your life even less. If you attempt to abuse this chance I'm giving you, you'll find yourself in a very unpleasant place."

Siege nodded once, still coughing. Revan swept past him to the doors that led out into the flagship's main corridor.

"I would have brought him to you," Siege said gruffly, causing Revan to halt and turn back to face the bounty hunter. "From the _Ootmian_," Siege clarified. "I planned to sell Onasi to you, not the Hutt."

Revan smiled. "Your asking price would have been too high. I hope my hospitality these past few days has convinced you to be more reasonable." The mock sweetness in her tone did little to hide the threat behind the words.

"Bastila," Revan said, moving her gaze from the Zabrak to her second-in-command. "Inform me as soon as we reach the boundaries of Bothan space."

Bastila inclined her head. "I will, Master."

Revan turned her back on both her apprentice and Siege. _And if that bounty hunter asks for more than ten thousand credits, send him back to his cage to rethink his offer_, she sent through the Force as she exited the bridge. The doors slid shut behind her even as Bastila's reply echoed through her mind: _Yes, Master._

Revan strode quickly through the wide hallway, ignoring the hasty salutes of her underlings as she made her way to her personal quarters. She needed to meditate, center herself, and mentally prepare for the upcoming battle, whether it proved to be diplomatic or military. She also thought it was about time to get another status report from Canderous on the Outer Rim. The cache of planets he'd been left to manage in her absence had grown considerably over the past few months, and she wanted to be sure he still had everything under control.

She typed in her access code; the door to her quarters opened noiselessly. Revan stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She shrugged off the outer layer of her robe and tossed it carelessly across her bunk, moving straight for the communications console on the opposite wall. She tapped in Canderous' personal com frequency and waited while the terminal connected. Soon there was the hiss of static, and then the Mandalorian's rough voice came through:

"Canderous here."

"Canderous, good to hear from you," Revan returned, and since this was not a visual communiqué, she paced back and forth in front of the console as she spoke. "How is your fleet holding up?"

"There was a skirmish at Barab I," the man answered at once. "One of the flagships took a pretty good hit. But the battle was brief; we crushed the resistance. The damaged ship is undergoing repairs as we speak."

"Will you need a replacement in the meantime?"

"I don't think so. Don't worry; we've got plenty of ships left to hold the fort till you get back."

Revan's lip twitched in a smile. She had always liked Canderous' view of battle. He and the Mandalorians seemed to be the only ones besides herself who could appreciate its true value. Of course, in the end their lust for glory in war had been what led to their downfall. The very thing they prided themselves for the most had been what had doomed their people to oblivion. She knew that… but it seemed they didn't. "Very well," she commented, coming back from her thoughts. "Anything else to report?"

There was a short pause. "The troops on Taris have finished rounding up most of the survivors on the surface. But they couldn't find anyone down in the Undercity. It's like they all vanished…"

Revan grunted, thinking of the crazy old man she had met while traveling the dark, damp streets of Taris' underground. He had claimed she had helped him find the "Promised Land", and even as she and Carth had stood there gaping in astonishment, the whole outcast population had gathered and left… walked away into the darkness, carrying almost everything they owned with them. At the time she had believed them all insane… but perhaps they _had_ found some sort of Promised Land after all. Or perhaps they had all succumbed to the rakghoul disease. Whichever the case, she doubted her soldiers would find any of them now…not that it mattered.

"Don't bother with them," she finally said aloud. "They are of no use to me. Just keep the surface dwellers under control."

"We shouldn't have any problems with them… they don't have anything left to mount a defense."

Revan quirked an eyebrow. That was certainly true. Malak had most definitely made his point clear on that planet… and almost succeeded in killing her as well.

"There's one other thing…"

Revan braced herself; she didn't like Canderous' tone. It sounded too much like he'd been thinking.

"We've intercepted several ships en route to Telos in the past few weeks… all of them carrying natives from planets you've already conquered. Some of them were small vessels that had managed to slip through the blockades. Others had apparently been off-world at the time their planet was seized and got the news via com-link from friends or relatives."

Revan stopped her pacing. "I assume you've since disabled all unauthorized communication pathways?"

"Well, yes… but… we could set up a blockade around Telos easily enough. You've occupied every surrounding planet except that one. It's become a haven for dissatisfied subjects of your new empire… it allows them to think they can escape, that there's somewhere you don't control…" The Mandalorian trailed off, obviously waiting to see if he had overstepped his boundaries.

But Revan had expected him to bring up this topic long ago. "Telos was destroyed just as Taris was. There's hardly enough left for the population still there, much less any outsiders. Tighten any standing blockades and destroy any ship that approaches them without authorization. Sever all communications other than those within the fleet, and don't allow any ships to approach Telos. If any try, obliterate them."

"I will do as you command, Revan. But wouldn't it be easier-"

"Telos is not to be occupied," Revan stated firmly.

There was a short silence. "I'll begin making the changes you requested right away."

"Do so then," Revan said. "I'll want another report at 0900 hours tomorrow."

"As you wish."

She cut the connection and sighed heavily, walking across the room to look at the items resting neatly in a glass display case there. Canderous' extensive knowledge of waging war made him her most outspoken fleet commander, and while she certainly appreciated his insights at times, his strategizing often clashed with the way she thought things should be done. Despite that fact, he _was_ the one most qualified for the job… at least that's what she kept telling herself. Just as Veeren Siege was the one most qualified to infiltrate Republic headquarters and snatch Carth right out from under their noses.

The thought made her smile; she opened the lid to the display case, reaching in and gingerly lifting one of the weapons. The case sported a host of her own private trophies: objects from people she'd defeated in battle, interesting office decorations from the governments of the planets she'd overtaken, rare trinkets of priceless archeological value she'd collected over the past year…

She hefted Malak's lightsaber in her right hand, shaking her head at its weight. He'd made it to his specifications, of course, but she found it far too bulky. It felt off balance, likely due to its hasty construction. Revan grunted in disgust, putting the lightsaber back in its place. She regretted having Malak as an apprentice… he had always been impatient, impulsive, arrogant. He'd always been one to charge into a fight without knowing the circumstances, shooting first and asking questions later. It was because of Malak's impatience the Jedi trap devised by Bastila had succeeded in capturing her. She would have been ruler of the galaxy by now if she had not had to spend so much time wandering about space thinking she was someone else. At least the Jedi Council had been fool enough to allow her to retrace her old steps. Without revisiting those certain locations, without experiencing everything she had to reach each Star Map, the recognition of her true identity would have taken much longer. Malak had helped speed the process, of course, but Revan had no doubt that even without Malak's crude revelation, she would have eventually come to the same conclusion.

Revan reached into the case and pulled out a second weapon, this one a heavily modified blaster complete with ranged scope and hair trigger. She studied it carefully, appreciating its fine balance and excellent condition, remembering the many battles it had helped win, the people it had killed, the numerous times it had saved her life.

She ran her thumb over the design etched into its grip: the Onasi family crest. Bitter resentment suddenly blazed in her chest, and her hold on the blaster tightened. _Who is he to judge me? Who is he to accuse me of hiding the truth? Of following the path to evil? Of _betraying _him?_

Revan had been the one betrayed, this she knew without doubt. Carth Onasi, Republic soldier and _supposedly_ a man of honor, had claimed to love her… had willingly entered into a relationship with her despite all his rants about mistrust and suspicions. She had come to trust him, to believe in him, to care about him more deeply than anyone else she had known.

And then he had abandoned her. As quickly and as cleanly as a smuggler caught by a Republic trade patrol would drop a load of spice.

As soon as Carth had learned of her true identity, he'd begun acting different. He'd stopped talking to her, stopped making eye contact with her; withdrew into himself much like he had when she'd first met him. After they had found the last Star Map she had finally gotten him to open up again, to admit that he didn't hate her, that he still loved her, that he would remain by her side till the end.

_But even that was a lie_, Revan thought viciously. _How easily he reneged on all his promises when he learned I meant to use the Star Forge myself._

She set the blaster back in the case and closed the lid, but her gaze lingered on the weapon for a long moment more, thinking of the last time it had been used: Carth had tried to kill her with it. She had to admit that was something she had not expected - she had foolishly underestimated the level of his hatred.

She should have killed him that day. She knew it as well as Kreia and Bastila knew it. But she hadn't been able to do it, and that weakness gnawed at her. He certainly hadn't had any qualms about eliminating _her_… why couldn't she feel the same toward him?

_That doesn't matter now_, she told herself, turning her back on the display case and going to retrieve her robe from the bed. _I'll make him see how stagnant the Republic has become, how great I can make this galaxy. I'll make him understand why I took the Star Forge. _

Revan threw on her robe, too agitated now to attempt meditation, and strode for the door to her quarters. Perhaps she couldn't bring herself to kill him, but she couldn't have him running free about the galaxy either. That would be an insult to her character; a bad example to the rest of her followers. There was only one acceptable thing Carth Onasi could do now: join her.

_I_ will_ have him back… I don't care what it takes._ She left her quarters and headed for the bridge, interested in seeing what sort of deal Veeren Siege had dared to offer Bastila.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

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	21. Conscious or Unconscious

**A/N:** I apologize for how long it took me to post this chapter... it's actually been finished for about a month now, but my lovely beta Rian Sage made some very good pointers so I spent some time working in her suggestions. Then the whole thing was delayed farther by having to work and all that other real life stuff. So... I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! And the next chapter shouldn't take so long...

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**Conscious or Unconscious**

Carth sat on the bed in his appointed quarters, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back against the wall with his hands behind his head, staring blankly across at the opposite wall. The room was sparsely furnished and the decoration horribly boring, but at least they hadn't put him in the brig… yet. His formal trial had been set for the following day, and Carth was having a hard time figuring out why he wasn't anxiously pacing about the room right now instead of sitting calmly on the bed.

_Because you're going to tell them the truth_, a voice in his head piped up. _And anyone who sees the truth can't convict you of being a traitor._

Carth snorted derisively, knowing all too well that wasn't always the case. The other, less-optimistic side of him knew the more realistic reason behind his new-found indifference: he was just too exhausted to care anymore. Spending a year on Nar Shaddaa had been hell, but the past week on Coruscant had actually been worse. He hadn't been allowed access to any of his personal items, or to send or receive any transmissions, or to leave his room without an armed escort. His communication with Nigel had been cut off three days after their first conversation, something Carth found especially disturbing. He had no idea if Nigel was now suspected a traitor as well or if Intelligence was just getting far too paranoid and taking extra precautions to prevent the "corruption" of military brass.

He had never found out what happened to Aayla, either. Intelligence had questioned him at least once daily since he'd recovered from his head injuries, and during every interrogation her name had come up. How had he met her? What was the nature of their relationship? How had she happened to be aboard the same freighter? And on and on and on. Yet any time he had asked a question about her current health or whereabouts, his words had been completely ignored.

Carth found that most irritating.

He sighed heavily, shifting a little on the bed. Intelligence's behavior toward Aayla was only one of the peculiar things he had been contemplating during his week of virtual imprisonment. He'd also been thinking of something that had come up during his first talk with Nigel: Revan's motivation for doing what she had.

The more he thought about what had happened to him over the course of the past year, the more unusual the situations seemed. First Revan had sent him to Nar Shaddaa, supposedly so he could live out the rest of his life in misery, watching as the Republic crumbled around him, according to HK-47. But she had obviously had some sort of contact with Vogga… what kind of contact he couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling she'd been responsible for more than some of his troubles on that moon – not the least of which was intercepting his call to the Republic and setting up a false conversation with Admiral Terramen.

Carth closed his eyes, the feeling of being prize idiot washing over him yet again. _You couldn't have known_, he told himself for the millionth time. _The transmission codes were a perfect match… without having access to military records there's no way you could have known._

For some reason the argument, however valid, did little to make him feel any less a fool. _But why would she go through all that trouble?_ The answer came unbidden even as he asked the question: _To hurt me._ Could it really be so simple? Had Revan really manipulated his circumstances for all these long months just to make his life as wretched as possible?

_Then why send me to Coruscant? Why let me go where I wanted to go, especially when her droid was right there? She could have sent me anywhere she wanted… she could have brought me right back to Vogga…_

_Who would have executed you_, the voice in his head was quick to point out. _Or worse._

He opened his eyes, looking out at his dull surroundings again. _Well… this isn't exactly the sort of treatment I was expecting, either. Maybe she knew the type of reception I would get here. Maybe that's why she let me come… she doesn't want me dead, just completely miserable._

He frowned. _But why not dead?_ She had murdered the others in their party who had refused to support her plan for galaxy-wide domination, and he had openly tried to kill her. He certainly had not expected to wake up again after being choked into unconsciousness on the _Ebon Hawk_.

A noise from outside drew his attention to the door and Carth swung his legs over the side of the bed. He didn't think anyone had made an appointment to talk with him today, but if there was anything he had learned in the past few weeks, it was to expect anything at anytime – and usually the worst of whatever it happened to be as well. He heard a security card slide through the machine outside, heard the heavy thump as the lock disengaged, and resigned himself to suffering through yet another interrogation. The door hissed open, but it was no military personnel or Intelligence agent who stood in the gleaming whiteness of the corridor beyond.

Carth rose to his feet as Veeren Siege stepped over the prone bodies of the outside guards and ducked through the doorway, greeting Carth with a knowing smile and bringing the barrels of his still-smoking blasters to bear.

"So we meet again, Onasi."

Carth was frozen in place, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation rendering him mute. He was almost inclined to believe he was dreaming… a bounty hunter couldn't find his way into the secure section of the Republic Navy's headquarters – much less kill two guards and abduct a detainee – without being apprehended. It was inconceivable. And it was happening. _But he's not out of here yet_, Carth thought, and his hopes were minimally restored.

"Hrm… I must say I expected more from the Republic," Siege muttered in his gruff voice, and Carth's attention returned to the bounty hunter to see him looking around the room in disgust.

Carth swallowed hard, eyeing the blasters warily, and gave a small shrug. "Yah, well… the holding rooms aren't as nice as others."

Siege turned back to Carth, lifting his tattooed eyebrows. "From a soldier to a slave to a prisoner, eh? Imagine that."

Carth said nothing in reply, trying to decide if he should try and call for help or attempt to run for it. He wasn't sure either was a very good idea, but then again, it all depended on what Siege planned to do with him. A blaster bolt in the back could be a good alternative to some things…

"Well, which do you prefer," Siege spoke up, ignoring Carth's silence, "conscious or unconscious?"

Carth considered the question. At least that meant whoever the bounty hunter worked for now wanted him alive. He rubbed at the thickening stubble on his jaw. "It depends on where I'm going," he said at last, crossing his arms over his chest.

Siege grunted. "Where do you think? I'm taking you to Revan."

Carth narrowed his eyes. "Really? So whatever happened to you before, on the _Ootmian_? You said that then too, and I still ended up here."

The Zabrak's expression darkened; his snide smile vanished. "I renegotiated the deal," he growled. "An inconvenient delay, but I suppose it was necessary. Darth Revan herself hired me this time, and as I said before, Siege always delivers. So which is it, then? Conscious or unconscious?"

_Well, I wanted to find Revan. This is probably the easiest and fastest way to her. Although I definitely can't say it's the most pleasant._ While being unconscious would have rid him of the necessity of dealing with Siege, Carth didn't really want to find out how the bounty hunter planned to render him that way. Therefore, he decided conscious would be preferable. "I think I'd like to remain conscious this time," he said aloud.

"Very well, then. Let's go." Siege motioned toward the door with his blasters.

Carth reluctantly did as he was told, deliberately moving slowly in the hopes that someone would realize what was going on and come to stop the bounty hunter. Of course, maybe confronting Revan would be preferable to facing trial tomorrow. On the other hand, he hadn't really planned on confronting Revan without a weapon and some back-up….

A shove into his shoulder sent him stumbling out into the hallway, and he clenched his jaw at the sight of the smoldering blaster holes in each guard's chest.

"No use in stalling, soldier," Siege grumbled. "I've disabled all security systems on this level and locked down all its doors. No one else has any idea anything's wrong, so you can stop thinking about your rescue."

Carth sent a glare over his shoulder, continuing at only a slightly faster pace than he had been before. "You didn't have to kill them, you know," he said at last, his voice gruff.

Siege snorted. "I don't tell you how to run your Republic, you don't tell me how to conduct my business."

"I'd hardly call it _business_."

"I'm beginning to think I'd like it more if you were unconscious."

"And then what would you do, carry me out?"

"Oh, you're not worth carrying. It'd be more like _dragging_."

Carth didn't particularly like that thought, and he chose not to reply. They walked for awhile down the empty corridor in silence, and Carth felt both relieved and disappointed that the secure section was so sparingly populated at this time of night. More people patrolling the halls would have meant there was the possibility of running into someone who could help him… but judging from Siege's itchy trigger finger, it could have also meant more people ending up dead.

"Whatever happened to that schutta of a Twi'lek, anyway?" Siege suddenly asked into the quiet.

Carth immediately felt his anger flare; he struggled to resist the urge to turn around and deck the Zabrak. But he'd tried that once before, and that fight hadn't turned out in his favor. "She recovered," the soldier ground through his teeth.

"Hrm. Interesting. Any idea where she's being kept now?"

"I wouldn't tell you even if I knew."

"Ah, yes. The ever-noble soldier. I'll just have to find out myself, then."

Siege reached out and caught Carth's sleeve, pulling the man roughly over to the nearest access terminal. The bounty hunter tossed the soldier a warning look. "Try anything and you'll regret it."

Carth rolled his eyes but stood quietly as Siege pulled a small datapad and a few computer spikes from his belt. After all, the longer it took them to get out of here, the more likely it was someone would find them.

Within a few minutes Siege had pulled up quite a bit of information on the whereabouts of current guests, prisoners, and patients within the entire military complex, and Carth winced at the ease with which the Zabrak was able to so. He'd have to make mention of that to Intelligence if he ever came back from this little trip. To his satisfaction, however, Siege was unable to penetrate any of the higher level access codes, and eventually the bounty hunter gave up, swearing under his breath as he put his slicing equipment away.

"What," Carth quipped, "not as good as you thought you were?"

Siege swung around to face Carth in a manner that almost made the soldier flinch. "Revan only said you had to be alive," the bounty hunter snapped. "Don't push your luck."

Carth met the red gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated, but Siege grabbed his shoulder and pushed him around, then gave him another shove. They resumed their walk down the deserted corridor, Carth leading and Siege following with blaster in hand. The true reason for the lack of people in the halls soon became apparent... bodies lay slumped at periodic intervals, all of them killed by blaster fire. And all of them caught by surprise, judging from the number of weapons that still rested in their holsters. Doubtless Siege had used the stealth-field generator Carth had noticed on the bounty hunter's belt earlier… the pointlessness of such murder made Carth hot with rage; his heart seemed to beat harder with each body he stepped over.

He counted six before he couldn't take it anymore; he spun around without warning and swung with all his might at Siege's face. His blow connected solidly with the Zabrak's nose and threw the bounty hunter off his feet. Siege landed heavily on his back, his blaster skidding across the floor. Carth ran for the weapon and scooped it up, dropping to one knee as he turned to take aim. Siege rolled to his hands and knees, the blood that poured from his nose a sharp contrast to the whiteness of the floor. The bounty hunter drew his remaining blaster and Carth fired, but Siege fell sideways and barely escaped the bolt.

The Zabrak jumped to his feet; Carth did the same. The two froze at a standstill, both holding blasters aimed for the other's head. Carth smiled unpleasantly. "Well, well, Siege," he said breathlessly. "Looks like you might have a bit of a problem."

The bounty hunter returned the mirthless smile. "How do you figure that?"

"Revan wants me alive," Carth said simply. "I suppose it's unfortunate that the same doesn't hold true for you."

"Oh, I assure you, my blaster is still set on stun."

"Mine isn't."

"Then I guess it comes down to who has the fastest trigger finger," Siege said calmly.

"I guess it does," Carth replied, just as calmly.

There was a split second of silence, and then both simultaneously fired and dove for cover. Both shots missed their targets; Carth hit the floor on his shoulder and rolled back to his feet, but just as he prepared to fire again he realized Siege had vanished… literally.

The soldier immediately put his back to the wall, keeping the blaster close to his body, glancing around quickly in every direction. He knew what Siege had done… engaged the stealth-field generator. Carth swore fluently, vainly searching for that subtle but usual distortion that surrounded a stealth-field user as they moved. He also watched for signs of blood, knowing that unless the bounty hunter had managed to stem the flow from his nose, any drops that hit the floor would be visible as soon as Siege moved away from them.

A long moment seemed to pass in which nothing happened, but Carth refused to believe Siege had left the area. A sudden blur in his peripheral vision proved him right; Carth whipped around to his left, but before he could get off a shot, an invisible force caught him in the side of the face and sent him spinning. He hit the wall and rebounded; Siege rematerialized right in front of him and caught the wrist of Carth's gun-arm, twisting it brutally. The soldier cried out as the blaster fell from his hand; Siege pulled him around and kicked the back of Carth's knee, dropping him into a kneeling position.

Carth gritted his teeth; his shoulder felt as if it were about to be dislocated, but Siege didn't loosen his grip. Instead the bounty hunter pulled Carth's other arm behind his back and the soldier grimaced as he felt the cold metal of binder-cuffs lock around his wrists.

"I tried to be reasonable," Siege growled, pulling Carth to his feet by his shirt collar. "But we don't have time for any more of your heroics." The bounty hunter picked up the blaster Carth had taken from him and holstered it, then nodded at the corridor that stretched before them. "All right, let's try this again. Start walking. And no more stalling, or I'll be forced to test out the modifications I made to those cuffs."

Carth reluctantly moved forward, not fully believing Siege had really modified the cuffs, but also unwilling to test that theory at the time. The two continued on in silence, but Carth was able to take some small comfort in the look of Siege's nose. It was most certainly broken; the bounty hunter was still trying to stop the bleeding when they reached the east turbolift and boarded it, heading down to the complex's basement. By this point Carth had given up on trying to guess the Zabrak's plan… there was no entry or exit in the basement, and he couldn't fathom why Siege might want to go there….

_The armory._

Carth stiffened. That would be the reason to go to the basement, all right. But it was heavily guarded - it would be extremely difficult for anyone to bypass its defenses…

The turbolift doors slid open, and to Carth's dismay he noticed both the turret guns and the shielded defense droid had been deactivated. The five human guards were dead, sprawled out on the floor, their skin reddened and peeling as if it had been badly burned. And then Carth saw why: the screen of the nearest access terminal had been blown out, the inner wiring still sparking sporadically. Siege had obviously overloaded the terminal from one of the main computers - a trick he and Revan had used themselves with some regularity. Back then he had thought the skill handy… but now…. He felt his throat ache with guilt, grief…

Siege tossed him a meaningful look before gesturing for him to go first. Carth stepped gingerly from the turbolift, keeping his gaze on the armory door before him and trying not to look at the dead officers around him. Siege used a few more gadgets from his belt to rig the reinforced door, and shortly afterwards it opened obligingly. Carth felt his hopes of rescue swiftly fading. Veeren Siege was obviously very talented at what he did. He was at least as talented as Revan and Aayla had been at these sort of things… maybe even more so. The chances of anyone realizing Carth was gone until it was too late now seemed very slim.

"A thief now too, huh?" Carth taunted, watching as Siege moved into the armory. But the bounty hunter ignored him, focusing instead on prying open the nearest set of footlockers. Carth stood just inside the doorway, one eye on the Zabrak and one eye on the turbolift. There was a chance he could make it to the lift before Siege had the chance to get off a shot –

"Ah, there you are."

The bounty hunter unholstered the blasters currently on his belt and tossed them to the floor, lifting two familiar, long-barreled guns out of the closest footlocker and settling them in the empty holsters. He gave a nod of satisfaction. "Yes, much better."

Carth blinked. Had they really come all the way down here just so Siege could get his blasters back?

The Zabrak sifted through the other footlocker and pocketed a few grenades before facing Carth once more. "I don't guess you'll need any of your things." Siege flashed the soldier a smile and kicked the footlockers shut. "Revan didn't specify whether you'd need a weapon or not. Although, I figure since she left mine to be confiscated by the Republic on that junk-bucket freighter, she's not too concerned with whether you get yours back, either." He waved toward the turbolift. "Let's go."

Carth sighed, turning around to go back to the lift. Getting bossed around by Siege was quickly becoming annoying….

They made their way silently and without incident to the roof, where Carth immediately spotted the bounty hunter's ship. It sat unabashedly in plain sight, and the soldier couldn't imagine how Siege had managed to park it there without being noticed by _someone_. He twisted to look at the Zabrak, his impression of Siege's abilities going up another notch, and the bounty hunter granted him a grin, nodding toward the ship.

"Pretty, ain't she?"

Carth looked back to the ship, studying it from a pilot's perspective. It was a light freighter of some kind, probably Corellian-made, and decagonal in shape with the neck of the cockpit situated in the middle of the frontward side. It was roughly the size of the _Ebon Hawk_, but had been outfitted with extra guns, and the hull had been reinforced with some kind of armored plating. He shrugged nonchalantly. "It looks too heavy."

Siege gave a grunt. "That's what they all say."

"Did it ever occur to you they might be right?"

"You're a pilot. You ever listen to mechanics?"

Carth frowned. "Uh…"

"Just what I thought. 'Sides, any good pilot should be able to handle modifications and repairs themselves, don't you agree?"

Carth looked up, searching the busy skylanes for the patrol boat he knew would be making its constant rounds over the building. Surely it would have noticed the freighter sitting atop Navy headquarters – night on Coruscant didn't get _that _dark… "Yah, sure," he answered absently.

The boarding ramp to the ship whirred open, startling Carth, and he looked back to Siege to see the bounty hunter holding a small remote in his hand. The soldier lifted his eyebrows. Now _that_ was something he should have had for the _Ebon Hawk_ during all those months of "needing to leave quickly", as Canderous had often put it.

The sudden blare of sirens caused Carth to jump around, his eyes immediately drawn upwards to the familiar shape of a Coruscant police cruiser. _There it is… about time._ A spotlight strobed the rooftop as the cruiser hovered above their heads, the officers within barking orders over the external speaker system:

"Attention owner of the freighter designated the _Iridonian Star_, you have violated a military no-fly zone. You are hereby under arrest. Drop your weapons and place your hands on your head. Disregarding these orders will result in the use of potentially lethal force."

Carth immediately turned his back to the cruiser, hoping they could see his hands were cuffed, wanting it to be very clear that he was not armed. But Siege didn't even spare a glance up. Instead he grabbed Carth's shoulder and started dragging the soldier toward the boarding ramp.

"What are you doing?" Carth protested, fighting Siege's grip. "Are you crazy? They'll shoot us!"

"If you wouldn't have tried to stall so much we would have been out of here before they ever saw us," the bounty hunter growled. "So if they shoot us, it'll be your fault."

"I don't think you understand-"

Laser blasts punched into the durocrete around them, showering them with debris, and Carth ducked, trying to protect his head as best he could.

"Drop your weapons now and put your hands behind your head! This is your final warning!"

Siege pulled Carth into the freighter behind him; the ramp began to close before they were even halfway up it. The cruiser above them opened fire and Carth ran the rest of the way into the bounty hunter's ship of his own accord. He glanced briefly at his surroundings: to his left was a short flight of stairs leading to a shut door, to his right a long wall with one shut door and one open door at the far end. Directly in front of him, across the expanse of the rather comfortable-looking common area, another open door gave him a view into a large garage area complete with parked G-wing.

Before he could notice any other details, however, Siege snatched the back of Carth's shirt and pulled the soldier past the flight of stairs to a short hallway. They went left through an open set of doors and then, to Carth's dismay, came upon a small room of security cages. There were three cages each lined against the left and right walls, and through another set of open doors opposite them sat the cockpit.

Siege practically threw Carth into the nearest cage, activating the force-field almost before the soldier had made it fully inside. Carth regained his balance just before his shoulder hit the shimmering electrical barrier, barely saving himself a very unpleasant shock. He turned to glare at the bounty hunter, but the Zabrak had already settled himself in the pilot's seat.

The unmistakable sound of warming engines broke over the distant thuds of the police cruiser's fire, soon followed by the more immediate sound of returning fire from Siege's vessel.

_Remote-controlled turrets_, Carth thought absently. _Or maybe just automatic. Whichever it is, I bet those come in handy._

"You might want to hang on," Siege called from the cockpit, and Carth moved to the front of his cage in irritation.

"Hang on?" he repeated. "I'm still cuffed!"

"Better brace yourself, then," Siege answered casually.

Carth scowled, but as he felt the floor tilt beneath him with take-off he hastily sat down, leaning against the narrow support beam at the back of the cage. He only hoped the Zabrak could handle the ship well enough to prevent him from sliding into the cage's buzzing perimeter.

The laser fire and sirens of the police boat faded swiftly into silence. Then there was only the roar of the engines.

_Damn… this thing must be faster than it looks._

The ship shuddered as it entered the outer layers of Coruscant's atmosphere and Carth hung on as best he could to the beam behind him, bracing his boots against the floor. _He might have souped-up his engines, but his inertial dampeners sure could use some more work…_

Carth kept waiting to be intercepted by a space patrol once they had reached orbit, but Siege deftly maneuvered his ship through Coruscant's crowded space-lanes without incident. They had hardly left the reach of the planet's gravity well before Siege typed a destination into his navi-computer and launched them into hyperspace.

The hyperdrive motivators were surprisingly quiet compared to the subspace engines, and in the resulting silence Carth took the chance to speak again. If he was going to be forced to spend hours with the bounty hunter, he might as well try to get some information while he had the chance. "So… what really happened to you on the _Ootmian_?"

Siege swiveled his chair around to face the soldier. "Why do you ask questions you already know the answers to?"

"I know HK-47 stunned you. What I don't know is why you weren't there when I woke up in orbit… why Revan let me go to Coruscant… why HK didn't take me to Revan when he had the chance?"

Siege grunted, turning back to the controls. "I know nothing about that cursed droid of hers. And I know less about her reasons. But she does have a plan. Without doubt, that woman knows what she's doing."

"What does she want with me, then?"

Siege leaned back in his chair, looking over his shoulder at Carth, his horned head silhouetted by the spiraling tunnel of hyperspace outside the viewport. "I couldn't tell you. But if I were to take a guess, I would hazard to say you did something that pissed her off and now she wants to watch you die slowly and painfully. Either that or you have something she wants and she plans on getting it from you herself."

Carth frowned. "I see."

"Either way, I don't envy you. Although I find it curious… why would Darth Revan be so interested in a Captain of the Republic Navy? And the fact she explicitly wants you alive… that's especially unusual. It makes me wonder if you two have a history."

Carth turned his gaze to the wall across from him. "We both fought for the Republic once," he said flatly. "Before she decided to betray everyone she had ever known…"

"But there's something else," Siege continued. "A good bounty hunter learns to read people, Onasi. And I've had some time lately to study you both. I see it on both sides… you and Darth Revan have some kind of past. I bet it's an interesting one, too. "

"Are you always this fascinated by the lives of your bounty?" Carth asked irritably

"Not always," Siege answered lightly. "But if they're alive and conscious I try to keep up a little conversation. Most people with bounties on their heads have a few good tales to tell, and it helps to pass the time."

"You'll forgive me if I don't feel inclined to share," Carth growled.

Siege shrugged. "Most don't. But it never hurts to ask."

There was a short silence, but Carth didn't feel like talking anymore, and eventually the bounty hunter turned back to the viewport

There was another short stretch of silence, and then a sound began to issue from the com's speakers, slowly increasing in volume. At first Carth thought it was just static, but after a moment he realized it had a rhythm to it. It was a low, reverberating tone… so low, in fact, that he could feel it within his body better than he could hear it. It carried out for a long moment, then slightly changed in pitch, rising and falling to a strange background melody that had gradually made itself known.

Carth sat very still, concentrating hard on listening to it, trying to decide if he found the combination soothing or unsettling. And then, finally, he realized what such noises must be: _music_. Or singing. Or maybe both. He got to his feet, moving to the front of the security cage, seeing Siege leaned back in the pilot's seat again, hands at his swelling nose and feet up on the bulkhead.

Three more tones joined the first note of the song – if it could even be called that – each of a different pitch, and they wavered and moved with the accompanying musical melody in a way that made Carth feel as if he were hearing in three dimensions. He decided the sensation was definitely unsettling.

"For stars' sake, what _is_ this?" he asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the increasing strength of the vocals.

Siege didn't even turn. "Ithorian opera," the bounty hunter said simply. "Don't tell me you've never heard of the great Ondra Dossk?"

Carth winced as the great Ondra Dossk hit a brief high note before falling back into the lower tones. The four separate vocals in the song now made perfect sense, being that Ithorians had four throats, but surely Siege knew humanoids couldn't even hear half the frequencies Ithorians were able to produce? "Couldn't you turn it down a bit?" he pleaded somewhat desperately.

The Zabrak's only reply was to turn the music up even louder and Carth groaned, rolling his eyes. He returned to the back of the cage and sat down cross-legged, leaning against the support beam and closing his eyes. He tried to ignore the noise coming from the cockpit, but it was virtually impossible. Even if he covered his ears with his hands, he could still feel the vibrations of the Ithorian's mighty singing in his chest. He sighed wearily, resignedly accepting the fact that this would be a very long, very unpleasant trip.

He put his head in his hands, rubbing at his temples with his fingers. _Why, Onasi? Why in the kriffing galaxy didn't you choose to be unconscious?_

_

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_TO BE CONTINUED...

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_

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_


	22. The Shadow

**A/N: **This chapter would have been posted two weeks ago but first my internet was down and then the Document Manager wasn't working. But here it is finally! As always, many thanks go to my beta Rian Sage - she made this chapter much better than it was originally! **EDIT:** I POSTED THE WRONG VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER EARLIER! Whoops. So now I have posted the proper, beta'd version! Enjoy! And sorry about that...

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**The Shadow**

_Carth and Moriel stood on one of the massive stretching balconies of Rwookrrorro, looking out over the railing to the endless void of forest beyond. The surrounding trees were dotted with the lamps and torches of Wookiee houses, but above and below this livable level were swathed in utter darkness. Daytime beneath the solid tree canopy of Kashyyyk was dim enough, but night beneath the leaves reached a level of blackness Carth had only experienced in space._

_The sound of celebration could be heard echoing between the trees… mostly Wookiee music and Wookiee howling, but every now and then a human voice could be heard shouting in intoxicated glee. Carth took a deep breath of the night air and exhaled slowly, glad for the chance to relax, even if it was only for a little while._

_The crew of the _Ebon Hawk_ had been kept terribly busy the past few days. First there had been trying to clear Zaalbar's name, then killing "the Beast", returning a long-lost historical heirloom to the Wookiees, finding the fourth Star Map and then, of course, helping to stop Czerka Corp's Wookiee slave trade. In the end, the Wookiees had decided to hold a three-day festival in honor of the crew's success in so many courageous exploits._

_At first the crew had been reluctant to accept the invitation, all of them being anxious to get on with finding out where the Star Maps ultimately led, but Zaalbar had warned that refusing to attend the celebration would be considered a deep insult. Since it had taken them so long to earn the Wookiees' trust in the first place, it had been unanimously decided they would attend the party after all._

_But three days and nights of near-constant merriment had taken its toll; Moriel had stepped away from the fires and drums for a bit of quiet and Carth had instantly followed her. Not just to be sure she was all right – the Wookiee drink could carry quite a kick – but also to seek some time alone with her, no matter how brief it might be. Lately they hadn't had much of a chance to get away from the others, and Carth found the lack of privacy restricting. He had gotten used to going out regularly with her on some kind of mission, and the absence of that over the last couple of days felt distinctly out of place. He had to admit, despite the dangers that seemed to follow them from planet to planet, he was ready to get back to the ship - ready to get back to discovering the truth behind the Star Maps._

_He glanced over to Moriel, but she stared off into the distance as only a Jedi could, her face fixed into an expression of focused concentration. Carth felt a pang in his chest as he looked at her; the lightsabers hanging on her belt were a constant reminder to him of the path she had chosen. So far they had decided to ignore the implications of their relationship to Moriel's career as a Jedi, but it was something that gnawed at Carth's mind almost constantly. Although he had never fully understood why the Jedi Order put such restrictions on its members, he couldn't help thinking some of the rules were probably established for good reasons. He had seen his share of good people corrupted to the Dark Side, and a part of him was deathly afraid that his and Moriel's deviance from the Jedi Code would make her even more vulnerable to such corruption. _

_She _had_ spent quite a lot of time at the Sith Academy on Korriban…_ She had no choice_, Carth told himself fiercely,_ if they had discovered she did not intend to become a Sith, they would have killedher. _Of course, they had eventually tried to kill her anyway…._

What about the Force powers she's been using lately? What about the time she put _you _in stasis because you didn't want her to fight that cursed Beast in the Shadowlands? Or the time she "inadvertently" tried to Force-choke you during the argument over going to the Sand People encampment on Tatooine?

_Carth pushed the thoughts from his mind, unwilling to confront such questions at this time. He had finally brought himself to admit that he loved her, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He had done plenty of things he wasn't proud of in wars past… the things Moriel did now, whether morally questionable or not, were no different. They had been through so much… survived so much… and now he sensed they were nearing the end of their quest._

_The two of them were swiftly coming to a point where they would have to make a decision. They could not keep up their relationship so easily once back on Coruscant. Moriel would go to the Temple; he would go to Fleet Headquarters. She'd be sent out on galaxy-wide diplomatic missions, and he'd be stationed somewhere else entirely. Sometimes he wondered if it would just be simpler to end their relationship now… before it got any more complicated._

_He came back from his brooding with a start as Moriel's fingers brushed his hand. She slipped her fingers into his palm and he swallowed hard at her touch. He didn't want to give her up… not for anything._

"_What were you thinking about?" she asked quietly._

_He wasn't sure he wanted to answer, but in the end he decided it would be better for them to talk about it. He needed to get it off his mind._

"_Do you… do you think this is wrong?" _

_Moriel turned to him, the slight nightly breeze blowing a strand of dark hair across her face. "Do I think what is wrong?"_

"_This," he whispered, squeezing her hand. "Us."_

_She frowned at him, tilting her head to one side and regarding him quizzically. "Now what would make you ask a question like that?"_

_Carth shrugged, releasing her hand and turning to look out at the dark forest around them. "I don't know. It's just… I've been thinking, with everything that's going on…" He_ _trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his concerns without giving Moriel the wrong impressions._

_She stepped close to him, wrapping one arm around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder. The bodily contact was something he had sorely missed these past few weeks, and he put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her into him. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her scent, and sighed into her hair. He closed his eyes, everything within him wishing there was nothing else that mattered in the galaxy except holding her._

_A moment of silence passed, penetrated only by the distant music and the forest's overwhelming orchestra of nocturnal insects. Moriel quietly urged him to continue, "Go on."_

_Her encouragement helped soothe his doubts; he took another deep breath and spoke before he could have second thoughts. "I just wish you had never become a Jedi."_

_He felt Moriel stiffen in his arms, but before she could retort he faced her, holding her at arm's length. "I know it's probably selfish of me to say that," he continued, "but things with the Jedi are always so damn complicated. They have their own set of rules, their own moral guidelines. It's just… when you told the Council you would train on Dantooine…" He shook his head. "Since then I've realized that I could never – that _we_ could never… be. At least, not how I'd like us to be."_

_She stared at him for a second, and then to his relief, she smiled. "There are no _rules_, Carth. There are guidelines, and codes of conduct, codes of ethics. Nothing more."_

_He blinked at her. "Somehow I don't think the Council would share your interpretation of such _guidelines_."_

_Moriel shrugged. "The Council isn't here."_

"_And what about when all of this is over with?"_

_She offered him a knowing smile, sidling up close to him. "Then I will go live in their cursed Temple until they discover I'm having a passionate love affair with a handsome Republic soldier, whereupon they will hopefully expel me from the Order, and we may go live somewhere nice where things are less… structured."_

_Carth couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at her suggestion, and from the mischievous gleam in her blue eyes he had no doubt she'd carry out such a plan. But the logical side of him tried to prevail. He warned, "The Jedi would make your expulsion as humiliating as possible, you know."_

"_Of course they would." She tossed her hair back over her shoulders and Carth had to concentrate hard on his breathing. Moriel rarely wore her hair down, but when she did she looked more stunning than ever. He only vaguely registered her next words. "I can handle a little scandal. How about you?"_

_Carth nodded distractedly. "Yah, sure." He hooked his arms around her waist and pulled her into him again, resting his forehead on hers. "But you know, there's always that chance we won't even make it through this war."_

_Moriel scoffed, pulling away from him to look him in the face. "What kind of an attitude is that? You survived the Mandalorian Wars, didn't you?"_

_He smiled at her indignant expression. "Well, sure… but it wasn't easy. Guess I should have retired when I had the chance."_

_She rolled her eyes, giving him a playful punch in the shoulder. "Oh please. If you'd have retired I would have been stranded aboard the _Endar Spire_ when it exploded."_

"_That's true," Carth mused. "Still-"_

"_You'd better not let Bastila see you two standing so close," a rough voice suddenly interrupted._

_They turned to face Canderous, Carth affixing an innocent look to his features. Moriel, however, chose one of irritation. She crossed her arms and squared her shoulders, giving the much larger Mandalorian a solid glare._

"_As much as Bastila likes to pretend it, she has no real authority out here," Moriel spat out. "And even if she did, I wouldn't give a gundark's ass about what she thought of me or my actions."_

_Canderous lifted his graying eyebrows. "Well, I don't blame you for the way you feel toward her, but do you really want to give her something else to preach about?"_

_Moriel's angry expression softened in thought. "Oh. I guess if you put it that way…"_

_Canderous nodded. "Just my point. Maybe you two should… find somewhere less visible."_

_Carth stared at the older man, and Canderous continued. "Bastila said something about needing to meditate back on the ship… I guess all the drink and noise got to her or something. She shouldn't realize you're missing for another couple of hours yet."_

_With that the Mandalorian turned and walked away, leaving them in shocked silence. At last Carth looked over to Moriel, desperately hoping Canderous' words had held the same meaning for her as they had for him. He raised his eyebrows in question, and the very naughty smile that painted her face in return told him all he needed to know._

_He grinned._

_She grabbed his hand and together they hastily made off to find someplace less visible._

Carth opened his eyes slowly, reluctant to come out of his doze. He didn't mind dreaming of the good times in his past, but waking up from such dreams was always painful. He shifted uncomfortably and winced at the cramp that had developed in his back. He'd been stuck in the same security cage for the past five days, and while Siege had been kind enough to install a food synthesizer and fold-out relieving station in the cages' support beams, the cells were still much too small to sleep in comfortably.

The soldier stretched his legs and arms as best he could, then sighed heavily and got stiffly to his feet. He eyed the food synthesizer with displeasure, trying to ignore his growling stomach. The bounty hunter had been sure to provide only the barest of necessities to his captured passengers - the synthesizer could only produce one thing: a thin, brown broth that tasted almost as bad as it looked. Carth had given up on trying to eat it three days ago. What he wouldn't give right then for a nerf steak… his tongue watered just thinking about it.

Footsteps drew him away from his food fantasies; Siege emerged from the common area and took the pilot's seat, hardly sparing a glance in Carth's direction. The soldier saw the bandage still taped across the bounty hunter's nose and smirked. The two had refrained from talking much during the trip: Carth refused to answer any of Siege's questions, and in return the Zabrak made sure to turn on "the great" Ondra Dossk anytime Carth attempted to start a conversation. Still, Carth couldn't help making some sort of comment every time he saw the bounty hunter's bruised face.

"How's the nose feeling this morning?" the soldier asked, his haughty expression belying the casual tone of his voice.

Siege grunted distractedly. "To be honest, I've had worse. But I appreciate the fact you actually meant it when you hit me. And by the way, it's night where we're going, not morning."

Carth scowled at the bounty hunter's dismissive manner. The soldier had yet to get the Zabrak to give him any credit for the fight he'd put up in Fleet Headquarters. Although Carth realized he _was_ zero for two against Siege, he felt confident he could best the bounty hunter now… if only he could get another chance at it…

"Where exactly _are _we going?" he asked, moving to the front of the cage to watch Siege through the humming orange barrier.

"Korriban," the bounty hunter answered shortly.

Carth felt a strange emotion ripple through him at the sound of the planet's name. That was one place he had absolutely no desire to return to. Nothing good had happened there. In fact, now that he'd had time to dwell on it, he was quite sure Korriban had been the beginning of Moriel's descent to the Dark Side. Perhaps it had even been the beginning of Revan's fall, all those years ago.

Siege mistook his silence for confusion. "You didn't think she'd actually let you aboard her Star Forge, did you? Least, not yet. She's got something planned for you here, and we've gotta get rid of our shadow first."

Carth straightened. "Shadow? Someone's following?"

"Oh yes." Siege spoke with a grim smile, but kept his attention focused on the flight controls. "They have been since Coruscant. I thought our escape seemed too convenient."

"They identified your ship," Carth said dryly. "It wouldn't be that hard for them to track you after that."

Siege shot the soldier a look of disapproval. "How do you think I've stayed in business for so long? I have ways of keeping myself from being found. But these people…" The Zabrak turned back to the controls, shaking his head. "They're unusually good. I even took an uncharted route. Must be Intelligence."

Carth crossed his arms, giving a noncommittal grunt. "You must have really pissed them off."

Siege swiveled his chair around, grinning to bare his teeth. "Oh, I'm not sure I'm the one they're following, actually."

Carth frowned at the Zabrak's suggestion. "You think they want Revan?"

"Or you."

Carth snorted. "Me? I wasn't the one who murdered countless Republic soldiers, hacked the Fleet computers, violated military fly zones-"

"Maybe they just want answers."

"Answers to what?"

"Revan," Siege replied nonchalantly.

Carth turned away, pacing a circle within the cage. "What makes you think I have any kind of answers about Revan?"

"The fact our shadow had a chance to fire on me two days ago and didn't. The look that crosses your face every time I mention Darth Revan's name. And…," he paused with a smirk, "sometimes you talk in your sleep."

Carth halted his pacing abruptly and thought briefly of the dream he had just woken from. He looked to Siege with uncertainty, but his captor only gave him a wink before turning back to the bulkhead and dropping them out of hyperspace. Carth saw the distant brown orb of Korriban hanging in the black of space and swallowed hard. His mind raced with impossible questions: What and how much had Siege overheard? Why would Revan send him here… what more could she possibly put him through? And who was following them? Perhaps more importantly, who were they coming after – him or Siege?

The soldier had a sinking feeling he wouldn't like the answers to any of those questions, and as the bounty hunter's freighter swooped down into orbit; a feeling of dread crept into the pit of Carth's stomach.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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	23. Korriban

**Korriban**

Revan stood in the middle of the Valley of the Dark Lords, her black robes whipping around her body in the fierce wind that howled through the surrounding mountains. Lightning stabbed through the gathering storm clouds and a crack of thunder shook the ground beneath her feet. She heard the ship approaching just as the first few drops of rain began to fall, pattering heavily against the dirt.

She didn't need to look up; she could sense the two men aboard the freighter through the Force as the ship settled expertly onto its landing struts just yards from where she stood. The disembarkation lights flashed on, illuminating her in a bright spotlight, and the ramp immediately began to lower.

The silhouette of Veeren Siege appeared in the doorframe and Revan smiled grimly at the sight of the bounty hunter. She had worried briefly that he would refuse to follow through on their deal once free of the _Leviathan_, but it appeared the rumors of the Zabrak's business-like attitude were true. Either that or he'd actually listened to her warning about what she'd do to him if he tried to run.

He strode down the freighter's ramp and came to stand in front of her, giving a low bow far too grandiose to be sincere. "Lord Revan," he greeted as he straightened. "I've brought Onasi, just as we agreed. And he's alive, as you requested. I trust you can sense his condition yourself, however."

Revan studied the bounty hunter for a moment in silence as the rain came down in torrents, thoroughly drenching both of them in seconds. She ignored the discomfort of wet robes, but was pleased at the touch of irritation she picked up from the bounty hunter at having to stand waiting in the pouring rain. She drew out her silence until she felt the Zabrak begin to grow uneasy, then finally spoke.

"Well done. I suppose you've earned this, then." She drew out a credit chip and tossed it to him; he swiftly made it disappear within a pocket of his combat suit. He gave her a nod, then turned on his heel to re-enter his ship. But Revan stopped him with another order: "Take Onasi up the path behind me. You will see a cave on your right. Follow the cave to its deepest depths, there you will find the door to a tomb. Place Onasi inside that tomb. Once you have done that, you may depart Korriban."

The Zabrak turned to face her again, and she could nearly hear the thought forming in his head: _That was never part of the deal._ He appeared ready to protest such a ridiculous task, but in the end thought better of it and gave her another nod.

Revan turned her back on him, making her way up the path she had just described toward the now-abandoned Sith Academy. She hadn't gone far before she sensed what it was the Iridonian had not wanted her to know. She stopped in her tracks, spinning back to face the ship. The bounty hunter was just about to disappear inside.

"Veeren Siege."

The sharpness of her tone made him pause mid-step.

"I trust you got rid of them?"

He faced her again, a look of confusion creasing his brow. "Got rid of whom, Lord Revan?"

"Those that followed you from Coruscant."

He hid his surprise well. "I made sure to lose them before landing."

"Good." She briefly probed his mind to be sure he told the truth, and being satisfied, once more left him to his task. Her thoughts wandered as she trudged up the path in the rain, trying to decide how best to go about this next step of her plan for Carth.

Lightning split the sky above her; in its harsh white light she saw the dark-robed figure waiting for her up ahead. Revan nodded to Kreia as the old woman joined her, and the two of them continued toward the Academy.

They walked in silence for awhile, but eventually Kreia asked above the storm, "Do you really think this will work?"

Revan tugged her hood a bit farther over her head, refusing to look at her former Master as she answered, "It will work."

"And what if it doesn't?" Kreia asked, looking to the Dark Lord with a bored expression. "What will you do with him then? Would you finally tire of this useless game of yours and kill him?"

"It will work," Revan said again. But the thought of failure disturbed her, and almost unconsciously she reached out with the Force, searching for Carth's familiar presence. She found him easily enough, his confusion and anxiety stood out like a beacon amid the barren valley. Despite his current state of mind, Revan found his nearby existence soothing. She had just begun to draw on that comfort when Kreia's low voice interrupted her thoughts once more.

"You were always the rational one, you know. Always using your head. That's how you got to be where you are now. But your obsession with this soldier is not logical. I said it once, and I'll say it again: giving in to your feelings for that fool could be the end of you."

Revan scoffed. "If I'd wanted one of your doomsday prophecies, old woman, I would have asked for it."

"Just remember to use your head," Kreia reiterated dryly. "The sooner you admit the truth to yourself, the sooner this whole disaster can be avoided."

"And the sooner we finish this, the sooner you can get out of my sight," Revan growled.

Kreia chuckled at the Dark Lord's snide comment, but said nothing more.

They reached the wide, circular main chamber shortly and Revan walked to one wall, placing her palm against the rough stones. She felt them pulse with dark side energy. The war for power she had inspired by killing Master Uthar a year and a half ago had only helped feed the current already flowing through the structure. So many people had fallen by her blade that day… many in this very room…

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, basking in the feel of it. Then she went to the center of the floor and lowered herself into a meditative position. Kreia did the same.

"Remember the plan," Revan said, her voice sounding hollow in the cavernous black space. "We must wait until he wakes up."

"Yes, yes," Kreia answered impatiently. "I know what to do."

"Then do it."

The two Dark Jedi fell into silence, and they waited.

_Moriel sat in the pilot's seat of the _Ebon Hawk_, one leg folded beneath her, the other propped against the bulkhead. She chewed the nail of her left thumb absently, her boot moving restlessly against the dash of the flight controls. Her body was still on Kashyyyk time, so according to her, it was three in the morning. But Moriel was far, far from sleep. They had just escaped from Malak's flagship, the _Leviathan, _three days ago, but the horrors of their time there and the consequences of their escape still haunted her. They had barely made it out with their lives … and they had lost Bastila. _

_The Jedi had sacrificed herself to create a distraction so the rest of them could get out. Moriel had never been very fond of Bastila, but she couldn't help feeling they shouldn't have left the woman behind. The Padawan may have been proficient at her Battle Meditation, but she had never been the best at sparring. Despite the hope maintained by some of the other crew members, Moriel herself doubted Bastila was still alive._

_That thought only added to the weight of her already troubled conscience. _

_Another shadow loomed in Moriel's mind. One longer and darker than Bastila's self-sacrifice: the knowledge that she, Moriel Ithilio, had actually been – no, actually _was_ – none other than Darth Revan herself. _

_The revelation had sparked a torrent of emotions and memories. The visions she had been experiencing since the crash on Taris now made perfect sense. The unexplained appearance of that strange, cold current in the Force on Tatooine could now be understood. They were glimpses of her former life… her former power._

_Moriel stood from the chair, pacing back and forth in the narrow cockpit. At first she had been shocked to discover who she really was, but that truth was slowly becoming more and more appealing. As Moriel Ithilio she had always felt out of place, directionless. The events that had taken place since the destruction of the _Endar Spire_ had given her a purpose, but she had often still felt that her life lacked real substance… that she was capable of doing so much more than just the Council's bidding._

_As Revan, however, she was known galaxy-wide. She was respected, feared, admired. She had direction; was capable of great and terrible things, and was one of the most powerful Jedi of her age. Moriel had to admit such a reputation was hard to resist._

But all those people, dead…_ She shook her head in frustration. _No, I never killed anyone out of spite. Those that died did so out of necessity, for the good of the galaxy._ The argument had been playing out in her head since the moment she had set foot back on the _Ebon Hawk._ She couldn't deny her former path still called to her, and yet a part of her resisted. A part of her still wished to be Moriel Ithilio._

_She stopped pacing, her fingers moving to massage her temples, and took a deep breath. _The past doesn't matter. I _am_ Revan, whether I like it or not. Whether _they_ like it or not._ Moriel glanced to the cockpit doorway, reaching out briefly with the Force to gauge the current moods of her fellow crew members. All in all she had been pleasantly surprised by their mild reactions to the news of her real identity. Only Carth had voiced doubts, but she had expected that. She had first sensed something wrong between them on the bridge of the _Leviathan_, after Saul Karath's death. The traitorous Admiral had whispered something in Carth's ear, something Moriel had not been able to hear, but she could immediately see its effect on Carth's paled face, could feel his shock and anguish through the Force._

_He had refused to make eye contact with her since then, had recoiled from her every touch. He'd stalked off immediately after their group discussion on the matter and now avoided her as much as possible. Moriel found his behavior juvenile and fully planned on telling him so - if she could ever corner him long enough to have a proper conversation with him again._

_She closed her eyes, sinking into the Force, reaching out to find where he currently hid. She sensed Mission and Zaalbar in the common area playing Pazaak, Jolee meditated on a nearby couch, Canderous cleaned his rifle in the garage, and Carth… Carth paced a restless circle in the starboard dorms, his emotions just as jumbled as hers. She opened her eyes, hesitating for only a second before leaving the cockpit and heading in his direction. She was going to get things straight between them once and for all, whether for better or worse._

_Moriel reached the dorms to find the door shut. And locked. She sighed impatiently, knocking lightly with her knuckles. She waited, but there was no reply. She rolled her eyes, this time pounding on the door with her fist. "Carth, I know you're in there. I want to talk. Open up!"_

_Still silence. Moriel waited another moment, then gave in to her frustration and used the Force to unlock the door, pushing it open with her mind. Carth had been facing his bunk, but at her entrance, he spun around, a scowl darkening his features._

"_Don't you know what a locked door means?" he snapped. "What is it about you Jedi that makes you think having the Force entitles you to do whatever you want?"_

"_And what is it about you Republic soldiers that makes you so annoyingly close-minded?" Moriel shot back. "I'm tired of you hiding from me… I want to talk."_

_Carth gave a grunt. "Well, I _don't_ want to talk. And I'm not _hiding_ from you." He tried to walk past her, but Moriel threw out an arm and blocked his path to the hallway. He shot her a cutting glare._

"_Get out of my way," he growled._

_Moriel shook her head, meeting his gaze boldly. "I've invested too much time and energy into this relationship to let you walk away from it so easily," she said bluntly._

_Carth's dark eyes narrowed, but he made no effort to push past her. She took the chance to continue, "I didn't know, Carth. I swear I didn't. But now that I do, it changes nothing. I still feel the same toward you… I still love you."_

_He winced at her last words, turning away and pacing to the other side of the room. He stood there for a minute, not facing her, and she waited patiently in the doorway for him to say something._

_He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, running his hands through his hair. "Yes… but now that _I_ know… it changes everything. For me."_

"_But Carth, it doesn't have to. Don't you see-"_

_He held up a hand and despite herself, Moriel fell silent. Her chest tightened anxiously, her heart literally aching with both fear and frustration._

"_I just… need some time." Carth finally turned toward her, but the look on his face was not the one of affection she had grown so accustomed to seeing when he looked at her. His expression was hard, his eyes distanced and devoid of any familiarity. "You have to understand… I went through so much at the hands of – of Revan." He looked away from her again. "To think that you… you used to be… _her_. You _are_ her." He shook his head. "I hate it. I hate it all. The war, the Jedi Council, myself…"_

_Moriel swallowed hard. "And me?"_

_Carth looked up at her, his expression softening. He opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it and said instead, "I'd better go check the sublights." He moved for the door. "We pushed them pretty hard trying to get away from that tractor beam." He slipped past her and this time she didn't stop him. She watched him stride quickly down the hallway, a feeling of exasperation crawling up her throat._

"_Carth!"_

_He didn't turn around._

_She groaned, sinking back against the doorframe. _So much for that conversation_. She only hoped that giving Carth the time he wanted wouldn't drive him farther from her. So much in her mind didn't make sense right now, but she'd been telling the truth when she'd said her feelings for him remained the same. That was about the only constant in her life these days…_

_She stepped into the dorm and thought about meditating right then and there. Force knew she needed it. But then she realized the state of the room. Carth's bunk was made with military precision; Jolee's with Jedi thoughtfulness. Canderous' bunk, however, was in complete disarray, with blankets, pillows, and weapon parts strewn equally haphazardly across a full one third of the room. Zaalbar's bunk was only a little better – the Wookiee had gathered his blankets into a sort of nest in the middle of the bed, and a good deal of hair covered everything within a meter radius._

_Moriel wrinkled her nose. Now she understood why Carth always came to her side of the ship. This mess probably drove his military senses nuts. She smiled slightly at the thought, wondering how many times the soldier had tried to get Canderous to clean up his act. And the Mandalorian probably did it on purpose._

_She left the starboard dorms, closing the door behind her, and made her way back to the cockpit. That would be the most secluded place on the ship at this point, and she also knew Carth wouldn't be able to stay out of that area for long. His pilot's instinct would lead him to the cockpit eventually, to check the navi-stats or hyperdrive efficiency or whatever else he always wanted to double and triple check all the time. If she could just wait there long enough, he'd have no choice but to come to her sooner or later, and maybe then she could get in a few more words._

_She sighed heavily as she reached the cockpit and sank into the pilot's chair once more, wishing Carth wouldn't always have to make things so complicated._

* * *

Carth paced the narrow confines of his security cage, wishing the storm outside would subside so he could hear the conversation between Siege and Revan. A rush of some emotion rippled through him even at the mere thought of her being so close now. And he knew she was out there… just yards away, standing outside the _Iridonian Star_'s boarding ramp. He'd overheard Siege's surprise at seeing the Dark Lord herself waiting to meet them.

The soldier took several deep breaths, attempting to quell the nervousness that churned in his stomach. He wasn't sure why he was so anxious. Perhaps it was because, unlike most of the battles he'd fought in his life, he had no idea what to expect from this one. At least, not anymore. He had expected Revan to kill him long ago. But she hadn't. Then he'd expected her to leave him to rot on Nar Shaddaa. But instead she had helped him get to Coruscant, if "helped" could be considered the right word. And just when he'd thought he'd finally figured her out, she'd hired a bounty hunter to come drag him out of Fleet Headquarters and bring him to Korriban, of all places. It made no sense, and he'd nearly driven himself mad trying to sort it all out during the hyperspace journey from Coruscant.

Eventually he'd given up. He couldn't imagine what she had planned for him here; he could only hope it wouldn't be too unpleasant, or too painful. He looked around for any sort of weapon he could possibly grab when Siege came back to take him to Revan. The bounty hunter had removed the binder cuffs at some point during the second day of their journey, after Carth had dozed off. Of course, Siege had still taken care to hit Carth with a stun blast just after deactivating the cage's force field; the headache and dry mouth that had accompanied the soldier's awakening were telltale signs of what had transpired after he'd finally given in to his fatigue.

Carth didn't plan on making that mistake again. He wasn't going to be caught off guard this time. As soon as Siege lowered the force field, Carth would make sure to put the Zabrak in a world of hurt, and fast.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps and his heartbeat quickened in anticipation. Siege soon appeared in the doorway, but stopped there and regarded Carth thoughtfully. The soldier shifted under such scrutiny, feeling more like a nerf undergoing a pre-sale evaluation than a human being.

The bounty hunter at last gave a grunt, then pulled a credit chip from a pocket in his combat suit. He inspected it briefly, shaking his head. "This is pathetic," he sighed. "I sure got ripped off on this contract."

Carth forced a smirk to his face. "You should have known she wouldn't give you a fair deal."

Siege leaned against the door frame, tucking the chip away again. He looked to Carth. "Hrm. Yes… a Jedi, a Dark Lord, and a woman. Remind me never to do business with her type again."

There was a short silence, during which Carth once more got the feeling Siege was studying him. He was about to ask what the Zabrak's problem was when the bounty hunter finally spoke, "You sure you don't want to tell me the story behind you and Lord Revan?"

Carth glared silently.

Siege shrugged. "Okay, then. Keep your secrets. And I won't tell you where she wants me to take you, either. But by all the stars of Iridonia, this has got to be one of the most unusual jobs I've ever taken." The bounty hunter moved into the cockpit, shutting down the engines and readying the ship for his departure.

Carth watched the Zabrak intently, his curiosity about where Revan would send him on this planet almost overwhelming his reluctance to relive the past. But in the end he kept his silence, if for no other reason than to prevent satisfying Siege's obvious interest in the matter. He had just turned his attention back to finding a possible weapon when he felt a well-known brush against his mind. He stiffened immediately, a shock of both fear and exhilaration racing through his veins. He had not felt that touch in so long… so long… yet it's calm and gentle reassurance was achingly familiar.

_Revan. No… Moriel…_

But as soon as he thought the name the presence sharpened, making him wince. And then very suddenly his head exploded with images; as if he were remembering everything from the past two years all at once. The effect lasted only a few seconds, but when it had gone, so had the brief mental bond with Revan. Carth blinked in confusion as he found himself on the floor of the security cage. He sat up carefully, wiping away tears that had seemingly appeared from nowhere and grimaced at the dull throbbing Revan's presence had left in his skull.

"She was in your head, wasn't she?"

Carth startled and looked up to see Veeren Siege standing next to the cage, peering down at him knowingly.

The bounty hunter released a dismissive breath through his teeth. "Good or bad, Jedi just can't seem to keep themselves out of our heads, can they?"

Carth made no reply, focusing instead on trying to get to his feet. He couldn't believe how much energy that short exchange with Revan had taken out of him. He saw Siege moving over toward the force field controls and the soldier tried to gather himself for a fight.

"The Jedi Council once recruited me to hunt down a rogue Jedi of theirs," the bounty hunter said casually. "A kid, nineteen years old. But that kid could get inside your mind just as easily as you or I could shoot a blaster. He could know everything about you in a split second. Everything you loved, everything you hated, everything you feared. The things he could make me see…"

Carth thought he saw the Zabrak shudder.

"There was nothing I could do to defend against it."

Despite himself, Carth couldn't help but ask, "So… did you give up?"

Siege barked a short laugh. "Of course not. Siege always delivers, remember? I followed him for weeks, trying to catch him asleep or otherwise off-guard. If you've ever dealt with Jedi before, you know that's a hard thing to do. I stayed out of sight, but he knew I was there. Clever as hell, that one. He tried everything he could to get me to give up on him. Made me see glorious things, beautiful things, horrible things… even made me forget who I was for a day."

Carth crossed his arms impatiently. Siege obviously enjoyed telling stories about himself. "And?"

"Finally I decided I would try and make a deal with him. The thing with Jedi is they sense your intent. That's how they can tell if you're lying about something. If you believe something with conviction in your head, they see it as truth. So all I had to do was decide I wanted to make a deal with him, and not allow myself to think about anything else. After that, he agreed to meet with me. We struck a deal and both went home happy. Later that night, of course, I 'changed'my mind. I visited his current dwelling and lo and behold, there he was sleeping as deeply as a well-fed Wookiee. He succumbed easily enough to a stun blast in the head." The bounty hunter grinned broadly. "Needless to say, the Council rewarded me greatly for my troubles."

"I'll bet," Carth scowled. "Did it ever occur to you the kid might have had good reason to leave the Jedi?"

"I don't ask questions, unless it deals with payment method," Siege replied. "Questions are bad for business. I contract with whoever offers to pay me first, no exceptions."

Carth rolled his eyes.

"Now, we mustn't keep the Dark Lord waiting," the Zabrak quipped. "I don't much care for this planet and would like to be off as soon as possible." He drew one of his blasters. "Considering the trouble you gave me last time you traveled consciously, I'm not giving you a choice this time. You'll have to go unconsciously. I hope you understand." The bounty hunter gave Carth a truly unsympathetic look.

The soldier opened his mouth to reply, but as soon as he had uncrossed his arms and braced himself to move, the cage's force field died away, and Siege's stun blast hit him square in the chest.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	24. Not A Dream

**A/N:** Okay, I had this chapter done a month ago, but needed lots of help from my savior/beta Rian Sage, and then we moved. So it's taken me awhile to post it! I apologize! It won't take this long for an update again, I promise. The next chapter is already half written, so that's encouraging. Thank you so much to all of my readers and especially to Rian for all her help!**

* * *

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**Not A Dream**

Carth swam toward the light. Or at least, it felt like swimming. A sea of green surrounded him, enveloping him in a hazy cloud. A voice addressed him from somewhere; the words were indistinguishable, but the tone stirred a memory from deep within him. He struggled toward the surface of the water, the light above grew brighter and brighter, the voice clearer and clearer.

"Carth," it whispered. "Carth, darling. Wake up!"

He opened his eyes.

A woman's face looked down at him; a face he had known so well, yet feared so much to remember. He looked into her clear blue gaze and felt his heart freeze in his chest.

She smiled at him, one soft hand stroking his cheek. He realized dazedly his head rested in her lap. "Hi, darling," she greeted quietly. "I thought you might sleep away our time together. You get leave so rarely these days… perhaps it's selfish, but I don't care. I want every possible moment I can get to spend with you."

She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead; the touch of her lips warm and familiar. Even her smell was the same as he remembered, and it brought a crushing load of memories swirling back to his consciousness. He blinked, knowing with some part of him this was all wrong. "You're… you're not supposed to be here," he croaked.

The woman frowned. "What do you mean?" Her expression soon morphed from one of confusion into one of stern reprimand. "Carth Onasi, exactly how many ales did you have last night, anyway?"

Carth sat up and grimaced, one hand going to his head. It _did_ feel like a hangover…. He glanced around, trying to shake off his extreme disorientation, but what he saw did little to help ease his bewilderment. He knew this room. The bed he lay on, the night table next to it with the holograms of his family, the blue and lavender window trappings, the doors leading out to the terrace that overlooked the city. It was all… real. Or it had been.

It _had _been his life. But it had been destroyed. All of it. Years ago. He looked back to the woman sitting next to him. Morgana. His wife. To look at her now, with the knowledge of what had happened, the knowledge that she couldn't possibly be sitting there, was like putting a vibrosword through his own heart.

"What… what is this place?" he asked groggily, his horror growing as he continued to notice so many of the little details he had long ago forgotten.

Morgana blinked, deep concern slowly overwhelming her features. "Carth?" Fear tinged her voice. "Are you all right?" She pressed a palm to his forehead. "Maybe I should take you to the medic. You always do get carried away when you go out with those friends of yours," she rose from the bed, beginning to flutter around as she always did when she became worried. "I hope you weren't drunk enough to buy any of that spice the Rodians are always trying to sell to tourists downtown; you didn't, did you? I mean I know Tyvekk was with you and he's always trying to get you to do some crazy thing or another. I swear that man will be the end of you if you don't be careful…"

She went on, but Carth had stopped listening. He remembered this conversation. In fact, he could even vaguely recall what had happened the night before. Or what was supposed to have happened the night before. He'd been drinking with Tyvekk and some others from his unit and had consumed far too many ales - and stayed out way too late. Morgana hadn't been happy. He winced at the memory, unwilling to relive it.

But here he was, stuck in this nightmarishly-real dream, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't bring himself out of it. His attention drifted back to Morgana, who still paced the room, ranting on about his current less-than-responsible behavior.

"… I just don't see why you can't stay home with your family for one cursed night of your leave!" she sputtered, spinning around to face him with her hands on her hips. "But instead you've got to run off with your friends to the cantinas! And you stay out so late… it's like you don't even want to be home!"

At this Carth stood up, shaking his head in protest and reaching for her. She backed away from his grasp.

"If it's so untrue then why do you stay out so late?" she demanded. "Why is it every time you do come home you're too drunk to even stumble into bed?"

"Morgana…"

"Dustil's grav-ball tournament was last night. At the Academy. It was the Youth Championship, and all he wanted was for you to be there. But I guess that's too much for a son to ask from his father, isn't it?"

She turned on her heel to make for the door; Carth caught her elbow and pulled her back toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist and trapping her against him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, knowing he hadn't said that all those years ago. But he had wanted to later, when this fight had been over with. He'd never gotten the chance then; he'd been called back to duty early because of the Mandalorian attack on Duro. He didn't want to miss the chance again.

"I'm sorry, Morgana. And as soon as Dustil comes home I'll apologize to him, too. I didn't mean to miss his tournament. Things just got carried away last night –"

Morgana shoved herself away from him. "Things always get carried away with you, Carth," she moaned. "Why can't you just stay home for once?"

"I will," Carth blurted, moving toward her again. "I will, I promise. Tonight, tomorrow night… I won't go anywhere. It'll just be us, as a family."

Morgana shook her head, looking at him sadly. "But that's not what happens. Tomorrow afternoon you get called back to the Fleet, and you leave us. Again. Even though soon I'll be nothing but a bloodied body, buried beneath the rubble of this house."

"Stop," Carth choked out, squeezing his eyes shut. But the image burned in his mind, an image he had never, ever wanted to recall. "Stop it."

"Maybe I could have survived, if you had been there with me. You would have known it was coming, you would have known what to do. But instead you left. You left us."

"I was recalled to duty," Carth said, but the guilt came back hard, tightening in his chest. "There's no way I could have known…"

"You always did choose the Fleet over your family," Morgana bit off. "Always running off to the ends of the galaxy at a moment's notice, so eager to do their bidding-"

"That's my job!" Carth spat, irritation beginning to stir within him. He wondered why this dream wasn't ending, why he couldn't wake up, why all of this seemed so clear when the nightmares he usually had about Morgana's death were so vague and jumbled.

"You made the choice to become a soldier and a pilot," she shot back. "You could have picked a different occupation; one that allowed you to also be a husband and a father! Instead you always took the most dangerous missions, always volunteered to be on the front lines!"

"Because I wanted to be able to _do_ something!" Carth protested. "I wanted to make a difference!"

"And what did you contribute, Carth?" Morgana asked, crossing her arms and lifting her eyebrows. "What difference did you make in the grand galactic scheme of things? What difference did _you_ make in the Mandalorian Wars?"

Carth turned away from her, pacing past the end of the bed to look out on the city below. This was wrong. This was all wrong….

"Nothing _you_ did helped the Republic win the war," she continued. "Everything you went through, everything Dustil and I went through – all a waste. All the nights I spent alone, worrying. All your nights of drunkenness in the cantinas trying to forget the horrors of battle. All the grav-ball tournaments you missed… all for nothing."

Carth turned stiffly to face her, his heart pounding uncomfortably into his ribs. "That's not true," he whispered. "The Mandalorians were defeated…"

"But not because of you. Not because of the Republic's great Fleet. We won that war because of Revan. Her military genius is what saved us. Not the actions of simple soldiers."

Carth sat down slowly on the bed, feeling lightheaded. "This is a dream," he muttered. "This is a dream…"

Morgana knelt in front of him. She put a hand on his knee and looked up into his face. "This is not a dream, Carth," she said quietly. "I'm only telling you the truth. The truth I never got to tell you while I was alive. The Republic _used_ you. They wasted your life. They cost you your wife, your son, your home. You have nothing now because of them. And you owe them nothing, Carth." Her hands gently cupped his face. "You needn't be loyal to them. Not after what they put you through. Not after the way they made you suffer."

Carth swallowed hard, staring into the eyes he had once known so well. He opened his mouth to speak, but then didn't know what to say. He had never questioned his loyalty to the Republic. Even when his long-time mentor and friend Saul Karath had defected to join Revan's ranks, Carth's resolution had never wavered. He found it troubling now to realize Morgana's words had provoked a tiny flame of doubt. Was she right? Had he really been used? Had he actually made a difference at all in this galaxy? Had he lost his wife and son for nothing?

He shook his head to make up for his silence and stood, going back to the terrace. A storm grew on the horizon, spreading ominous purple clouds over the gleaming city buildings. Lightning flashed somewhere far away; a light breeze rifled through his hair. He took a deep breath of the fresh air and exhaled loudly, one hand absently rubbing the stubble on his chin.

"Carth?"

He turned around… and opened his eyes.

Carth blinked in bewilderment, staring only at a rough rock wall instead of the room he thought he had just been standing in. For a moment his confusion made him dizzy, but then he realized he wasn't standing at all. He lay on his back, looking up at the ceiling of some sort of cavern. He groaned, rolling over with some difficulty. His clothes were damp and dirty, his muscles felt stiff and sore, and his head hurt. He squinted as he faced the light source: a single, green-tinted glow lamp. It sat innocently in the middle of a wide, circular chamber, the edges of which could only vaguely be seen at the farthest reaches of the lamp's light. Carth pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to take in his surroundings. It looked like a cave. But how he'd gotten there, or why… he couldn't remember.

"Morgana." He whispered the name aloud without meaning to, but hearing it brought back the vividness of his dream – or whatever the hell that had been. He ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes against the memory of her. She was so clear now. For years her image had gradually faded from his mind; partially because of the passing years, and partially because he had wanted it gone. It had been too painful to remember. Now… now it was stuck in his head again.

He took a deep breath against the sudden sting of tears and opened his eyes to stare at the glow lamp. He pushed thoughts of Morgana and the dream to the back of his mind and shut the door on them. He had forgotten before, he could forget again. He had become so good at forgetting during the past few years...

Carth got to his feet and picked up the lamp, resolving to find out where he really was and why. A dark square of blackness loomed in the wall before him; he assumed it must be the entrance to a tunnel of some sort. He hadn't gone more than a few steps to explore it before a shape on the ground to his left caught his eye. He moved toward it, but then froze as recognition struck. His blaster.

Not the blaster he had picked up on Nar Shaddaa, not the blaster Fleet Security had taken from him upon his arrival on Coruscant, but _his_ blaster. The one engraved with the Onasi family crest. He hadn't seen it since…

_Revan._

Carth threw himself against the wall, pressing his back to it, holding the lamp up to shine over as much of the chamber as it could. He felt his heartbeat in his throat as he waited; his eyes darted from shadow to shadow, expecting to see the dark-cloaked Lord of the Sith emerge from them at any moment. The shadows remained still, but Carth wasn't convinced. He had last used that blaster in an attempt to kill her; its mere presence told him she wasn't far away, and she wasn't done with him yet.

He swallowed hard, finally remembering what had happened. Veeren Siege had stunned him, and then – judging by the muddy, damp condition of his jumpsuit – had remained true to his word and dragged Carth through the rain to this cave. This was where Revan had wanted him, apparently.

_Why hasn't she killed me already?_

Carth eyed his blaster again, then dove for it, coming up in a roll with the weapon held ready. The lamp swung wildly from his other hand; the cavern danced with light and shadow. But still no living thing came forward, and eventually Carth relaxed, sinking against the wall once more. He took a few deep breaths to try and steady himself, then made for the tunnel as quickly as he could, keeping his back against the wall. Maybe Revan hadn't been lurking in _that _chamber, but she _was_ here somewhere.

He moved forward at a good pace; the floor of the tunnel was smooth and clear of debris. In fact, it had been cut so well Carth began to doubt the structure was a cave at all. More likely it had been an expansion of the Academy, or perhaps some secret lair of Revan's. The hallway opened into another room after several hundred meters and Carth slowed at the corner, holding the lamp high again. He saw nothing in the immediate vicinity, but his grip on the blaster remained tight nonetheless. He crept forward carefully, every muscle alert for anything out of the ordinary. He searched for doors or more tunnels, and finally found another hall to his right. He moved toward it.

"It wasn't her fault, you know."

Carth whirled around at the voice; the glow lamp crashed to the floor as he took on a defensive position, his blaster held ready. The lamp flickered, then burned bright again, and Carth stared directly into the face of his son. The soldier let out a strangled cough of disbelief. "What… what in the…"

Dustil took a step forward, ignoring the blaster pointing at his chest. "You blamed Revan for my death. But she wasn't the one who killed me."

Carth took a step backward, staring open-mouthed at the figure before him. It looked like Dustil, but it couldn't be. Dustil had died in the Sith Academy, after Moriel had been forced to kill Master Uthar. That whole plan had seriously backfired, and Dustil had died because of it. Carth reluctantly lowered his weapon. "Dustil…" he croaked.

"Revan didn't kill me, Father," Dustil said firmly. "Moriel Ithilio did."

Carth gawked, his mouth working speechlessly.

"You saw her cut me down, and you did nothing."

"No," Carth blurted at once. "No – I couldn't get to you –"

"You could have stopped her," Dustil accused. "She would have listened to you."

"I – I tried," Carth said desperately, feeling tears bite into his eyes again. It had been horrible enough to see the ruins of what had once been his home on Telos. But to finally find the son he had thought dead for so long only to witness Dustil's true death so shortly after… it had almost been too much. If it had not been for the support of the rest of the crew…

"You cared for her more than you ever cared for me," Dustil went on bitterly.

"That's not true –"

"You took her side," Dustil interrupted sharply. "Afterwards, when it was all over. She convinced you it was self-defense, and you believed her."

"You attacked us!" Carth protested. "Even I saw that! You left her no choice but to fight you."

"But you still blamed her for my death, at first. Until she worked her charms on you."

"That's not how –"

"And then later, once you found out who she really was, once you realized she had devoted herself to the Dark Side, you began to tell yourself it was the evil in Revan that had possessed her to kill me. But you forget something, Father. _I_ was also a Sith! I also embraced the Dark Side."

"They brainwashed you," Carth interjected.

Dustil ignored him. "If it had really been Revan fighting me that day, I would still be alive. Do you know why, Father?"

Carth opened his mouth, but wasn't given a chance to answer.

"Because Revan would have realized my potential. She would have known all I wanted was to contribute something to the galaxy, to help make it a better place."

"And you think you could have accomplished that by killing hundreds of innocent people?" Carth demanded.

"Oh please, Father," Dustil scoffed, beginning to walk a slow circle around Carth. "Don't give me that noble soldier bantha-crap. Both of us know millions of innocents died during the Mandalorian Wars, deaths caused by both sides. The Republic's hands aren't any cleaner than the Mandalorians'… or Malak's, or Revan's."

Carth's fists clenched at his sides. "You have no idea –"

"No," Dustil cut in, coming to a stop in front of his father. "I have a very good idea. You forget I lived through those wars too. They took my father from me, and killed my mother. They left me with no one."

"I thought you were dead, Dustil," Carth whispered. "I looked everywhere for you."

"But the Sith found me first. Sad, isn't it? That the Sith could find me before my own father?"

"I came as fast as I could –"

"Of course you did," Dustil retorted icily, starting his circling again. "I've seen what so-called _good_ the Republic has to offer the galaxy. And after seeing that… The Sith didn't brainwash me; I joined of my own free will. I agree with Revan. The Republic is corrupted from within; the galaxy needs a change."

"And you think Revan would be a better leader than our current Republic officials?" Carth asked incredulously. "She's a murderer! I watched her kill the people we'd been traveling with for months without so much as a second thought! The people who'd helped her… saved her life countless times… one of them was just a kid, not even your age…" Carth broke off, clenching his jaw against the grief and turning away from Dustil to take a deep breath.

"Their deaths were necessary," Dustil said matter-of-factly. "If Revan had been killing needlessly, she would have killed you, too."

"She should have," Carth muttered, and the memory of Mission's dark, lifeless stare flashed across his mind.

"But she didn't," Dustil continued. "She knew you could accomplish more alive, if you chose to join her cause."

Carth gave a derisive snort. "Then she should have just killed me, because that'll never happen."

Dustil stopped pacing and crossed his arms. "And why not? How much good were you able to accomplish as a soldier for the Republic? How many years did you fight the Mandalorians before Revan came along? How long did you fight Malak before Revan found out who she was? Admit it, Father. Revan and her Fleet are far more efficient than any army of the Republic. She's done more for this galaxy in the past year than the Republic could achieve in ten. If you truly want to make a difference in this galaxy, you should strongly consider changing your mind."

Carth shook his head. "Never."

"What other choice do you have?" Dustil asked. "The trial? Jail? Aimless wandering about the galaxy after the Republic forces you to retire? And your days of active duty _are_ over, Father. The Fleet will never trust you on any important missions after this. They'll stick you behind a desk, and you'll become so restless with inactivity you'll have to leave. Then the only thing left for you to do is helplessly watch as Revan slowly gains control of the Republic."

"Someone will stop her," Carth said stubbornly.

Dustil barked laughter. "Wishful thinking, Father. Something the good Admiral Riffman didn't tell you: most of the governments now under Revan's control joined her voluntarily. Apparently the Republic is losing this battle on more than just the military front."

Carth squinted at his son, suddenly struck by the realization that this young man wasn't really his son at all. But if he wasn't Dustil, then who – or what – was it? And how could it know so much about Dustil's feelings, about Dustil's life? How could it presume to know Revan's reasons behind sparing Carth's life, much less anything about the conversation that had occurred in a secured section of Republic Fleet Headquarters?

"Who are you?" the soldier demanded as his fingers tightened around his blaster grip.

The Dustil apparition shrugged, smiling cheerfully. "I'm whatever you want me to be. Right now I'm just a part of you that you've been trying to ignore for the last five years. I'm that little voice inside your head that's always argued logic against your all-too-passionate nature. Unfortunately, you usually give in to your emotion or those constricting morals of yours."

"Enough," Carth snapped.

Dustil gave another shrug, then vanished in a wisp of smoke. The soldier blinked, taken aback by the sudden disappearance. But he soon re-gathered his wits and went to the spot where Dustil had been standing. There was no evidence of any kind that a person had ever occupied the space, and Carth found himself wondering if he'd just had another very vivid hallucination. His head _did_ still hurt. In fact, his headache was getting worse instead of better. He tried not to dwell on the pain, but picked up the glow lamp and made his way hastily toward the hallway he'd spotted earlier.

He didn't know what this place was, and didn't know if anything he'd seen in the past several minutes was real, but he sure as hell was ready to get out of there regardless. The uneasy feeling in his chest grew more persistent with every step, and the knowledge of Revan's unseen but undeniable presence somewhere nearby made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

He jogged through the dark, empty hallways, his blaster in one hand and the lamp in the other. Carth came across two more rooms, but this time refused to stop. He didn't want to know what could be hiding in all that blackness, whether it was a figment of his imagination or not.

_Most of the governments now under Revan's control joined her voluntarily._ The statement echoed through Carth's mind and he shook his head, trying to ignore it. It couldn't be true… no way…

_It doesn't matter, _he told himself._ Just find her and kill her. Then there will be no Darth Revan, and no Sith Empire._

"Looking for me?"

The voice stopped Carth cold, but instead of being surprised, he reacted out of battle instinct. Both hands went to his blaster; the barrel aimed directly at the forehead of the shadowy figure. The lamp hit the ground once again, rolling to rest against the toes of Carth's boots. His finger paused on the trigger, waiting.

Revan stepped into the eerie green glow of the lamp, her face mostly obscured in the gloom of her hood. Her cloak swished softly as she moved, tiny gravel crunched under her boots. "Tsk, tsk," she clucked. "Is that any way to greet a friend?"

Carth's top lip curled, but words failed him. He despised her use of the term 'friend' – not only because he would never call himself the _friend_ of a Dark Lord, but also because at one time he had been so much more to her than that. His finger twitched on the trigger, but refrained from pulling it.

"Don't worry," Revan said casually, "I won't stop you from shooting me this time." She moved closer; Carth tensed but held his ground. "I won't stop you because I believe you know the truth now. I believe you know the Republic is failing, the galaxy _wants_ a change, that what I did with the Star Forge was the best course of action given the circumstances."

She clasped her hands behind her back, waiting for him to comment, but Carth still couldn't speak. His head screamed at him to fire, but something else held him back. His blaster lowered slightly.

Revan pushed back her hood, walking to his side, and locked his gaze with a pleading blue stare. "We made such a good pair, you and I," she suddenly whispered, her business-like demeanor vanishing without warning. "Come back with me, Carth. I can't do it alone; I need your help. Come back with me and live the life you really want."

Carth stared at her for a long moment, his heart wedged in his throat. Maybe there was some of Moriel Ithilio left in her after all. Maybe there was a chance of saving her, of encouraging the good and rooting out the evil. Maybe joining her cause was the only way to redeem her, maybe his presence was all she needed…

A tickle in his mind interrupted his thoughts, and an abrupt realization dawned on him. _She's in your head. She's manipulating you, like she always has._

A blaze of anger lit in his chest; he clenched his teeth together and took a step back, then raised his blaster and fired.

In truth, Carth had not expected his shot to hit. He'd thought, despite Revan's claim, that her abilities in the Force would shield her from the bolt, just as they had before.

He was wrong.

The blast buried itself into her chest and she staggered, giving him a look of utter astonishment. Her hands went to the wound briefly; coming away black and slick. She took an unsteady step forward, then collapsed.

Carth stood frozen, staring at her prone form. His ears still rang from the echoes of the blaster's discharge and his retinas still burned from the light of it. The glow lamp seemed dull by comparison, but Revan's motionless body was still perfectly visible.

Pain in his chest reminded him to breathe, and Carth sucked in an audible gulp of air. But his heart still beat too hard; he could feel the blood pulsing in his throat, his ears. He took a stiff step toward the body, then fell to his knees beside it, dropping his weapon. He reached out and gently rolled the body over, taking her head into his lap, hardly noticing the tears slipping down his face.

Carth swept a strand of dark hair from Revan's cheek; his heart nearly choked him when her eyes fluttered open. For a second he was gripped with terror, thinking he was about to feel the crushing hold of her Force-grip on his neck again. But the look in her eyes, though unfocused, was not the vengeful rage he had expected.

"Carth," she gasped, her hand feebly reaching toward his face. "Why…?"

He grasped her floundering hand and pressed it to his lips. The agony etched in her features cut off his air just as surely as the Force-grip would have. This was not Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith… it wasn't even Moriel Ithilio. She was simply the woman he had loved – the woman he _did_ love – the only person he'd been able to feel close to since Morgana. And now she was dying too. Only this time it hadn't been an uncontrollable outside force that had murdered her… it had been by his own hand.

"Why?" Revan whispered, shaking her head weakly. "I… I loved you. I still… still…"

Her voice faded, her gaze slowly drifted away, and Carth felt her body go limp in his lap. He stared at her, unbelieving. All feeling drained away as a certain dreadful understanding overtook him.

He had never hated Revan. Not on the bloodied beach of Rakata Prime, not in the slums of Nar Shaddaa or within the starched white walls of the Fleet's holding rooms. Ever since he had grown to know her as Moriel Ithilio, in spite of everything she had put him through since, he had loved her.

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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	25. Something Unresolved

**A/N:** Okay, I did it again. It took me a month to edit this chapter, whoops. I'm sorry! So thanks for being patient with me! And, as usual, many thanks must go out to Rian Sage for being my beta. She really had some good suggestions for this chapter and they made it sooo much better! So you can thank her that you didn't have to wait so long for a crap chapter! Erm, well, at least I HOPE it's not a crap chapter... **

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**Something Unresolved**

Revan sensed, with a great amount of annoyance, the other people landing on the surface of Korriban. People who weren't supposed to be there. People the cursed bounty hunter Veeren Siege had said he'd lost along the way. Luckily for her, the same cursed bounty hunter was also still planet-side, and she'd be sure to make certain he didn't leave until she'd dealt with him.

Revan felt her concentration wavering and pushed away any thoughts of the intruders. To keep up the charade of believable hallucinations for Carth took an immense amount of effort – as well as Kreia's expertly trained mind-reading skills. They were very close to the end now; Carth had played into her plan well enough, and Revan didn't want to waste this opportunity by ending the current act prematurely. She wouldn't be able to continue it for as long as she would have liked, being as the people now landing had followed Carth in the hopes of finding _her_. And she didn't want to be found so easily. She had a limited amount of time left before the circumstances forced her retreat.

But she really had nothing left to tell Carth Onasi. She had already said more than she had originally planned to say, including the admittance of feelings she had kept buried deep since Rakata Prime. The emotions she'd picked up from Carth as he'd worked his way through the tomb had surprised her, however; he was not so full of hate as he tried to appear.

His feelings now, as he sat next to what he believed was her broken body, were the most poignant of all, and she couldn't help the triumphant grin that spread across her face. Her plan was working. She had been right. She had been right all along.

Kreia's presence flickered through Revan's mind; she, too, had been distracted by the new arrivals. The visitors were now disembarking their ship; the ominous ripple of a Force-user signaled the presence of a Jedi among the group. Kreia had since withdrawn herself completely from the meditation in order to conceal Revan's own rather impressive connection to the Force. Without such an action, the Jedi would have located them quite quickly.

But Kreia's absence from the mental bond had also made it easier for the Dark Lord to accomplish her last point. She would not have wanted the old woman to witness her momentary emotional weakness. Now Revan's time was running out. She focused intently on manipulating the currents of the Dark Side that flowed through the tomb Carth currently occupied. She reached into his mind, feeling his grief and his guilt, hearing his regret. She enjoyed a moment of it before she used the Force to gently send him into unconsciousness. By the time he came around again she'd be long gone, and the Jedi would have led the Intelligence agents right to him. He would awaken in a state of confusion, but Revan had a good idea one of the Republic fools would explain the situation to him. At least they'd explain their interpretation of it. Revan didn't care whether they guessed correctly or not. Regardless, she had no doubt Carth would eventually end up on a ship headed for the Star Forge. And she would be there to meet him.

Another smile grew across her face at the thought. She came out of her meditation, opening her eyes and releasing a deep breath. She stood slowly, tossing a glance at Kreia as she did so. The former Jedi still sat with her legs folded, eyes closed in concentration. Revan easily masked her own presence in the Force, then did the same for Kreia, who opened her eyes with a start as she sensed Revan's takeover of her camouflage efforts. The older woman sent the Dark Lord a sightless glare as she stood.

"You didn't kill him," she stated dryly.

Revan shrugged. "There was no need. I told you it would work."

Kreia let out an amused grunt. "And was it in your plan for him to shoot you?"

Revan pulled her hood over her head as they made their way to the Academy's main door. "I admit that was unexpected. But in the end it worked to my advantage."

"Then I hope you'll finally end these foolish games. Look at the trouble you've caused us. The Republic nearly landed on our heads."

Revan snorted dismissively. "A bunch of fools with blasters, and one miserable Jedi. Even if they found us, I could easily dispatch of them all single-handedly. They don't concern me. They don't even know we're here. Onasi is their last, desperate hope to get to me, and once he joins me as well… they'll have nothing left."

"You are delusional," Kreia said bluntly. "He won't join you while you're still Darth Revan. His only desire is to turn you back into a puppet of the Republic. You sensed that just as clearly as I."

"You underestimate my persuasive powers," Revan said. "He will come to me on the Star Forge, and he won't leave again unless it's to help me on my next campaign."

Kreia made no comment, but made no effort to hide her skeptical expression either. Revan chose to ignore it for the moment. She had other things to attend to, such as the problem with Veeren Siege. The Dark Lord opened the door to the outside with a flick of her wrist, and the two dark-robed figures stepped over the threshold into the rain.

* * *

_The deafening blast of a laser cannon made Carth's ears ring, a sure sign the enemy troops behind them were far too close. The thick red bolt plowed into the rocky ground just meters in front of him and he flung his arms across his face to shield his head from the debris. _

_Tyvekk ran beside him, but was not so quick to react. A piece of rubble struck the other man in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground, sending his blaster rifle skipping away into the surrounding smoke._

_Carth dropped down next to his friend, then caught the front of Tyvekk's combat armor and pulled the man to his feet again. The Major gave a cry of protest, his left arm hanging limp at his side. But both men ignored the growing red stain on Tyvekk's sleeve. The battle cries of oncoming Mandalorian warriors could make a man forget most things, especially when they were so close. Already blaster bolts shot from the fog of destruction behind them; before long the Mandalorians would be in view and Carth and Tyvekk would be within easy killing range._

"_Damnit, Onasi," Tyvekk gasped as they stumbled forward. "Of all the places you could've crash-landed us, you had to put us right in the thick of the Mandalorian troops."_

_Carth looked to his co-pilot in surprise. But sure enough, despite the obvious pain the man had to be in, Tyvekk wore his usual sarcastic grin. Carth swallowed hard, trying to force a smile to his own lips._

"_Yah, well… next time I'll try asking that Mandalorian cruiser to shoot us down somewhere else."_

"_Excellent… excellent idea," Tyvekk murmured, then tripped over a rock and staggered, nearly knocking them both over._

_Carth gritted his teeth and tightened his hold on Tyvekk's sleeve, trying to steady the other man. "Hang in there," he urged his friend. "Not long now…" The rescue transport was just ahead, waiting for them with open doors. The cannons thundered ceaselessly, and for once Carth found himself thankful for the acrid smoke of the fires. Without such cover, the transport would have made an easy target._

_The com in his ear buzzed with static sporadically broken by shouted orders from the Generals still orbiting the skies above. They screamed now for an all-out retreat. As much as it burned Carth to give up a fight, today he had been relieved to hear the order. He'd seen more of his men go down above this planet than any other so far in this war. The Republic's losses had been catastrophic. They needed to get out before the Mandalorians could take credit for a massacre._

"_We can't wait much longer, Captain," a hoarse voice barked in his earpiece. "It's too hot; those cannons are getting too close."_

"_We're almost there," Carth ground out, dodging another cannon-made crater. "Just give us another minute-"_

_Tyvekk grunted and pitched forward, landing face first in the dirt. Carth drew up short, staring down at his fellow soldier. Three black, smoking holes in the Major's armor told Carth all he needed to know. He swung around to face the advancing enemy; they were still hidden behind a wall of smoke and dust, but the sound of their boots and chants were enough to tell him where they were._

_He brought up his rifle and opened fire._

"_Onasi!" The voice shouted in his ear again. "What in the kriffing galaxy do you think you're doing? We have to get out of here now!_ Now!"

_Carth ignored the transport pilot, but his attack on the Mandalorian front provoked a fresh volley of return blasts from within the cloud of smoke. The bolts struck him four times before he fell, but he kept shooting even on the ground. He hardly heard the string of curse words coming through the com; the first Mandalorian had stepped through the gloom, emerging like a nightmarish phantom. The sleek metal armor gleamed in the fire's light as the warrior moved to stand over Carth._

_Carth lifted his blaster rifle in an unsteady hand, clenching his jaw against the pain in his legs and shoulder. "Damn you," he snarled. "Why won't you people die?"_

_The Mandalorian raised his own weapon to fire. But before he could act, the sound of engines drowned out the war chants and a heavy wind swirled up a new cloud of dust and grit. Carth squinted up into the transport's landing lights just as the ship's only weapon released a torrent of blasts into the lone Mandalorian's chest. The warrior flew backward, landing in a sprawled heap at the feet of the rest of his army, which had now become fully visible. Hundreds of Mandalorian weapons moved as one toward the hovering transport._

_Two pairs of boots hit the ground next to Carth and he looked up to see Nigel Riffman and one of his lieutenants. _

"_Get your ass up," Riffman snapped, pulling Carth roughly to his feet and nearly throwing him into the transport's open bay. "Stupid son of schutta. What are you trying to do? Get the rest of us killed too?"_

_The Mandalorian blasters created a veritable wall of energy bolts, and the transport's shields glowed under the onslaught._

"_Shields at thirty percent," the pilot called, and the note of panic in his voice was impossible to miss._

_Nigel and his lieutenant jumped aboard, but before Riffman could give the order to ascend, Carth spoke. "Tyvekk. Get Tyvekk."_

_Nigel gave his fellow Captain an exasperated look. "Carth, he's gone. There's nothing we can-"_

"_Get him," Carth ordered sharply. But then his voice softened. "Don't leave him here."_

_Nigel hesitated._

"_Shields at twenty-three percent," the pilot squawked. "Captain…"_

"_Hold position," Nigel barked. He looked at Carth for a second more, then shook his head and waved for his lieutenant to follow him. They disembarked, running to Tyvekk's motionless body amid a shower of blaster fire. A cannon shot rocked the transport and the pilot let loose another string of oaths. _

_Nigel and the lieutenant returned shortly; the only other two soldiers aboard the transport besides Carth moved forward to help drag Tyvekk's body into the bay. _

"_Shields at twelve percent-"_

"_Go!" Nigel shouted, diving through the doors after his lieutenant. "Go, go, go!"_

_The pilot didn't need further prodding. The transport rocketed off the ground faster than the accelerator compensators could compensate for, and the bay doors hardly had time to close before they reached sky. _

_Carth lay on the floor, still gripping his blaster rifle. He tried to ignore the burning blaster wounds in his limbs, tried not to look too long at Tyvekk's body. Tyvekk had been the last remaining man in Carth's unit. Now he was dead too. Now they were all dead. All of them but Carth Onasi. He couldn't help feeling it was somehow his fault._

"_How're you doing?"_

_Carth startled at the quiet question and looked over to see Nigel crouching next to him. The man had several kolto packs in his hands and set to work opening them as Carth thought up an answer._

"_I'm alright," Carth whispered at last. "Just some flesh wounds."_

"_Yah," Nigel muttered. "Crazy bastard. You got lucky." _

"_I don't think I'd call it lucky." _

_Nigel paused in taping a kolto patch over the oozing injury on Carth's left bicep and gave the man a serious look. "Don't start. There's nothing you could have done."_

_Carth shook his head weakly, then winced as Nigel got a little rough applying a patch to the burn on his right thigh. "I smelled an ambush up there. But I didn't act on it quickly enough. I should have known better…"_

"_You did the right thing," Nigel said reassuringly. "None of us could have known what we were flying into. We all lost people… good people." His eyes went surreptitiously toward Tyvekk's body. "But you know the dangers of holding on to what's done and gone. There's nothing we can do about any of that now."_

_Carth made no reply, but looked to the transport window. After a moment he realized the ground was no longer pulling away, but coming closer again. He frowned, and Nigel followed his gaze to the window, then looked toward the cockpit._

"_Hey," Nigel called, "what's going on? Why aren't we leaving this gundark nest?"_

"_Gotta make another pick up," the pilot answered, clearly no happier about the fact than his current passengers. "General Revan's orders."_

"_Can the shields handle another landing?" Nigel asked._

"_I guess we'll find out," the pilot replied morosely._

_The soldiers in the bay exchanged apprehensive glances, but the transport had already begun its decent. Carth felt the barest of jolts as it set down, and out the window he could already see the bright exchange of blaster bolts against the black of night._

"_This is gonna be close," he heard the pilot mutter, and then louder the man said, "Opening bay doors now."_

_Nigel, his lieutenant, and the two other soldiers took up defensive positions as the double doors whirred open. Carth forced himself into a sitting position, steadying the blaster rifle in his arms with a knee. The scene that confronted them outside was at least as chaotic as the one he'd just left, and it took Carth a moment to locate the person they were meant to pick up._

_She stood amid a background of Mandalorian warriors, their weapons unleashing a torrent of blasts in her direction. Her silver lightsaber worked furiously to deflect the bolts; the swirling, flashing blade was almost hypnotic in its speed. The Jedi looked briefly over her shoulder as the soldiers in the transport opened fire. _

"_Help!" she shouted over the noise of battle. "Man down! I need help!"_

_Nigel and his lieutenant jumped from the bay, running to the Jedi's aid, while the two remaining soldiers moved forward to try and protect the transport._

"_Get him to the transport," Carth heard the woman order. "I'll cover you." And even as the two men bent to lift the dark shape lying at the Jedi's feet, her lightsaber vanished and her hands lifted. Carth watched in amazement as the Mandalorians' shots seemed to vanish in mid-air. _

"_Shields at ten percent and dropping fast!" the pilot warned, but by then Carth had abandoned his weapon and was helping to pull the injured man aboard. The Zabrak was unconscious; his face had been badly burned and his lower left arm completely shattered. Carth winced at the sight of the arm, already reaching for a medpac, his adrenaline having effectively numbed his own injuries._

"_General!" Nigel shouted back at the Jedi, who still stood with her hands up, maintaining the Force-shield. "General, we got him. Let's go!"_

_The Force-shield dropped at once, and the General staggered for a moment. The soldiers in the transport ducked instinctively as Mandalorian fire peppered the weak shields still protecting the bay._

"_Five percent," the pilot called. "Captain, we're on the verge of becoming a permanent part of the landscape…"_

_The Jedi finally seemed to get her bearings and ran for the transport, throwing herself into the bay just as the transport's shields flickered and died._

"_She's in," Nigel shouted to the pilot. "Go!"_

_The take-off was somewhat rougher than the last one; it was all Carth could do to hang on to the Zabrak long enough to keep him from sliding out the bay doors before they closed. But at last they were away, and the doors shut, and Carth sank back against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep, even breaths, all at once regretting so much movement so soon after being shot._

"_General Revan," the Jedi said suddenly, and Carth startled, opening his eyes to see the woman speaking into a private comlink. Her face was smeared with soot, her black hair in complete disarray and matted near the right temple with dried blood. But her green eyes were fiercely bright and alive, and focused on the Zabrak's prone form as she spoke. "The device is ready."_

_After the chaos of battle, the profound silence that followed her words made Carth's ears ring. He only vaguely registered the reply that echoed from the com's tiny speaker: "Acknowledged, General Roe. The majority of their forces are still within range. You should activate it as soon as possible."_

"_Copy that. Activating it now." The Jedi switched off the comlink and pulled a square mechanism equipped with many buttons from her belt. She punched a series of the buttons, hit the largest one with fervor, and turned her eyes to the transport window expectantly._

_The rounded sill perfectly framed the planet below, which grew smaller and smaller by the minute as they fled for the safety of space. The other occupants of the transport followed her gaze in confusion, and as they watched, the planet of Malachor V seemed to fracture from the inside out. A distortion of some kind rippled out from the planet's surface; tiny explosions in space marked where ships both friend and foe had kept orbit._

_Carth stared, swallowing hard, and felt an unsettling mix of bitter satisfaction and growing horror spread through him as he watched the planet continue to buckle and swell. His voice was hoarse when he finally found it again. "What in the flaming galaxy was that?" _

"Captain? Captain Onasi, can you hear me?"

The strange masculine voice brought Carth abruptly back to consciousness, and he reacted to the feel of hands on his shoulders without pausing to take in his surroundings. His fist connected solidly with a jaw and the person cried out in surprise, falling backwards. Carth scrambled to his feet, his hand going to a holster-less hip, and counted five shadowy figures surrounding him. He lunged for the smallest one, but something struck him mid-stride and flung him into the far wall.

The force of the hit winded him; he rebounded off the wall and crumpled to the rocky floor. Hands were on him again before he could recover; they roughly flipped him onto his stomach and began to pull his hands behind his back.

"What are you doing?" a sharp female voice demanded. "We're not here to arrest him. Release him at once."

"With all due respect, Investigator, he just tried to attack-"

"And I would expect him to do no less, given the circumstances," the woman said. "Now get off him."

"Yes, ma'am."

Carth frowned as the hands released his wrists and the knee lifted from his back. He knew that voice…. He slowly got to his hands and knees, then sat back on his heels. He tried to catch his breath as he looked over to find who he knew would be standing there.

"Aayla?" he asked breathlessly.

The blue-skinned Twi'lek stepped forward into the white glare of a military-issue glow lamp and smiled. "Nice to see you again, Carth."

He squinted up at her and immediately noticed her revealing dance outfit had been traded for a very professional looking and conservative black jumpsuit. "What… what are you doing here?"

She reached down to help him up and he accepted her hand, but winced as he stood up, putting a hand to his side.

"I came looking for you," she replied, then glanced to his side and frowned. "I'm sorry for the rude awakening. When we found you unconscious we grew concerned. And I'm afraid these guys don't know you like I do. They reacted out of habit… as you did, I suppose."

"Yah…" Carth muttered, still very confused. He rubbed at a growing bruise on the back of his head. "Erm… who… who is 'we'? And… where the hell did you come from?"

Aayla grinned. "We followed the bounty hunter from Coruscant, of course. But once they entered this system we had to drop back to avoid detection… it took us awhile to catch up again."

Carth vaguely remembered Siege mentioning something about a 'shadow'. Aayla's ship – or whoever's ship she'd come in on – must have been that shadow.

"As for the rest of these men," Aayla gestured to the four others standing with her, "I won't bother with introductions, as it wouldn't be their real names anyway. Except for Jedi Master Alex Faxx." The man stepped forward, dressed in the usual Jedi attire minus the cumbersome robe, and extended his hand.

Carth shook it uncertainly, noticing the man's bloody lip with dismay. "Sorry for hitting you," he said awkwardly. "I didn't realize…"

The man shrugged. "No hard feelings; I was the one who threw you against the wall."

"Ah…"

"We're with Republic Intelligence, Carth," Aayla said rather abruptly. "And I know you've been through a lot lately, but… well… we came to deliver a request from the Minister of Defense himself."

Carth stared at her, his brain desperately attempting to make sense of what he'd just heard. "Wh-what?" was all he managed to sputter.

"I'm Intelligence," Aayla repeated. "Always have been. The bit with Vogga was all part of an undercover mission which I cannot further detail; however, it didn't go exactly according to plan. You stealing a freighter was the only way I could have escaped, and after that Zabrak shot me, your actions saved my life. For that, I owe you. Which is why, I admit, the scenario I'm about to present you was largely my idea."

Carth blinked in bewilderment.

"Listen, Carth," she said seriously, "there is nothing the Republic wants more right now than to see Revan gone. More specifically, to see her dead."

Carth flinched at the word; an image of Revan's lifeless body draped in his arms flashed through his mind, bringing with it the familiarity of real memory. Had he been dreaming? _No… I saw her. I saw her die. I… I shot her…_ The very thought made him sick and he swayed, leaning against the nearby wall for support. He swallowed hard, breathing deeply to try and quell the nausea that suddenly threatened to overcome him.

What was Aayla talking about? Revan _was_ dead… couldn't the Twi'lek see that? He forced his eyes to move in the direction of her body, dreading what he would find but needing to see it. He spotted his blaster a few meters away, still lying where he had dropped it. Only… there was no body.

He stiffened, his heart dropping into his stomach. "Where is she?" he blurted aloud, interrupting Aayla's continued narrative. The Twi'lek looked startled for a second, then furrowed her brow.

"Where is who?" she asked.

"Revan," Carth choked out. _Is she alive? Did she escape? No… impossible. She was dead, I know she was. But maybe… maybe she wasn't…_ He moved forward cautiously, limping slightly, searching the area where he had last seen her. "She was right here…"

"When?" Aayla asked at once.

"Before I… before I passed out," Carth said, realizing then that he had no idea what had made him fall unconscious. "I shot her," he whispered hoarsely, "she was… she was dead… lying right here…"

But there was nothing, not even a spot of blood, and Carth couldn't tell if that fact made him happy, or angry, or afraid. Maybe it was all three.

The Intelligence agents exchanged glances, and the Jedi Master broke the silence by clearing his throat. "This tomb is very strong with the currents of the Dark Side," he said quietly. "It's possible Darth Revan manipulated those currents in order to make you think you had killed her."

Carth shook his head stubbornly, his eyes still roaming the chamber for some sign of what had happened to her. "No. I saw her… I _felt_ her…" He remembered the weight of her body on his lap so clearly, the feel of her fingers pressed to his lips, the softness of her hair as he brushed it from her face. _It was real. It had to have been real. _He looked down to his hands, but they were clean. Not sticky with her blood as they had been. He blinked at them, his mind struggling to find reality somewhere between his memories and the present.

"Hallucinations caused through the Force can seem very realistic," the Jedi offered.

Carth snapped out of his thoughts and glared at the other man, but made no reply. He continued to search the chamber for indications of Revan's whereabouts until he came upon a piece of evidence that made him freeze in his tracks. The far wall of the roughly-hewn room had been recently blackened by a single blaster shot. Carth stared at it, knowing if he had truly shot Revan, none of the bolt would have found its way through her body to the wall. His insides suddenly felt hollow.

He hadn't shot her. He hadn't killed her. It _had_ all been an illusion. A sick, twisted illusion provoked by none other than Revan herself, he had no doubt. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Carth," Aayla spoke up softly from behind him, "we want to give you the chance to do what you thought you did. We want you to kill her."

He turned stiffly to face the Twi'lek, putting off his anger over Revan's manipulation for the moment to address his anger toward the Republic's leadership. "Really?" His voice was unusually gruff. "That's funny, just the other day I seem to remember waiting for my court-martial."

Aayla glanced down to her hands briefly, then met his eyes again. "I know. But I spoke up for your character, as did Admiral Riffman and many others who have served with you in the past. All together our opinions were enough to persuade both the Fleet Admiral and the Minister of Defense to give you this chance. If you accept this mission, Carth, all suspicion of your loyalty to the Republic will be forgotten."

The soldier narrowed his eyes. "_If_. And why me, anyway? The Republic's greatest Generals couldn't defeat Revan, what makes you think I can?" But even as he asked the question he could hear her quiet voice, almost pleading: _We made such a good pair, you and I. Come back with me, Carth. I can't do it alone; I need your help._

He turned away from the Twi'lek, afraid she would see the effect of those words in his eyes. He had come so close to joining Revan's cause, so close to giving in to those wide, blue eyes. He swallowed again, trying to shake off the unease that slipped into his gut at that thought. In a mere moment's time, she had nearly converted him. Nearly…

Behind him Aayla sighed heavily, oblivious to his raging internal conflict. "Because…," she said, "the fact is, Carth, you're the only one who has a chance of getting near Revan as anything more than a corpse."

"I already tried to kill her once," he muttered, pulling himself back to the present once more. "And it didn't work, remember? She's too powerful… send some Jedi if you want to kill her." He shot a glare toward Master Faxx. "After all, they're the geniuses who thought reprogramming her memory was better than killing her the first time around."

"We've already done that," Aayla said gravely. "And none of them have returned."

Carth threw his arms up in exasperation. "Then why me? I'm no match for a Dark Lord of the Sith!"

"But you are for _this_ Dark Lord of the Sith," Aayla insisted. "Don't you see the pattern? She's been keeping you alive for a reason. She _wants_ you to come to her. There's something between you two yet, something unresolved. I don't know what it is and I don't want to know… but it's giving you a nice, wide window of opportunity."

_I can't do it alone; I need your help. Come back with me and live the life you really want._

He swallowed hard, wondering why he still felt so confused. All he had wanted for the past year was to find Revan and make her pay for all the deaths she'd caused, for all the misery she'd made him suffer. And yet he couldn't shake the feeling of horror that had gripped him at seeing her body hit the cavern floor.

"Admiral Riffman said you had requested a strike team and a ship to go after Revan," Aayla said into the silence.

"Yah." Carth rubbed his hands over his face.

"Well, you'll have to go in alone, but we can monitor your progress from a distance. And we got you a ship."

Carth looked over at her, lifting an eyebrow.

"So?" Aayla asked. "What do you say? Take the mission?"

He glanced to the Intelligence agents, the Jedi Master, and Aayla. All watched him intently, waiting on his decision. He wondered what they would do if he refused. Would they drag him back to Coruscant to finish the court-martial? He found himself suddenly disgusted with all of them. They were nothing more than puppets, wrapped up in politics and secret agendas, the perpetrators of someone else's plans. They had treated him like a traitor when he'd first come to them for help, but now that it was _their_ idea, they were willing to trust him. Their fickleness sickened him.

And yet, if this was ever going to end between him and Revan, he needed to get to the Dark Lord. He needed to get to the Star Forge. He needed a ship. "Fine," he said at last. "I'll do it. But I want to do it my way. I'm going to –" The words stuck in his throat and he coughed, thoroughly disturbed by his sudden inability to say it aloud. _I'm going to kill her_, he meant to say, but instead found himself saying, "I'm going to end it once and for all. And there's no need for you to monitor anything."

Aayla frowned. "But if something happened -"

"Do you really think you'd be able to do anything about it?" Carth asked. "I'd be dead long before you could reach me. And then she'd know where you were and blow you out of the sky, too." He shook his head. "No, I'll…" he ground his teeth in frustration and forced the word past his teeth, "I'll kill her and then be killed by her cronies, or she'll kill me. This is a one-way trip for me either way."

"You can have the Fleet standing by if you want," he offered, seeing her stricken expression. "I'll try and contact you if I succeed. If you attack immediately afterward, you might still catch them off guard and have a chance to destroy the Star Forge."

"What makes you think she'll be on the Star Forge?" a nameless agent asked.

Carth turned his dark gaze in the other man's direction. "I don't know. But if she really expects me to come to her, then she should know that's where I'd go."

_I can't do it without you… I loved you… come with me…_

The words kept running through his head, over and over. As much as he had protested going on this mission just moments before, he now had an intense desire to get to the ship and go. He needed answers. Answers only Revan could provide.

"So where's this ship?" he asked.

"Outside," Aayla said. "In the valley. Are you ready to go?"

Carth looked around the cavern, then went to pick up his blaster. He stared at the burn mark on the wall for a second. _Why?_ His insides screamed the question. _Why Korriban? Why this tomb? Why make me think I killed her? Or maybe she wasn't behind the illusions at all? _

But then he remembered the tickle against his consciousness that had prompted him to shoot in the first place. Revan had often joined her mind with his while she had still been Moriel Ithilio; usually in times of stress, but occasionally during moments of relaxation or passion. Both had found the mental union surprisingly soothing, and it helped them work better as a team in combat situations. The recent brush on his mind had been familiar; much like the affectionate Force-touch Moriel had used to send him, but with a dark current to it that made the hair on his arms stand up. It had definitely been Revan. Darth Revan.

She'd been in his head, all right, apparently making him see things that weren't really there. He supposed she could have also been behind what he'd seen as Dustil, or his nightmarish dream about Morgana. But such thoughts only brought him back to the original question: Why? Despite the nagging doubts her recent deception had aroused in his head about the strength of his will, he needed to know the answer to that question.

Carth took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then turned back to Aayla. "I need a new pair of clothes," he said. "And some food. Then I'll be ready."

The Twi'lek grinned at him. "Done. Follow me."

* * *

A short while later Carth was clean, dry, freshly clothed, and sitting across from Aayla in a state-of-the-art galley. He'd been suitably impressed with Intelligence's style of travel; their ship was small and compact but well designed and maintained for maximum efficiency. The modern, gleaming fixtures of the galley went unnoticed, however, as the whole of his attention was focused intently on the medium-rare nerf steak occupying his plate.

The Andoan wine was also getting quite a bit of attention. Carth was in the middle of pouring his second glass when he noticed Aayla's curious expression.

He finished pouring and offered her the bottle. She shook her head, nodding toward her already almost-full glass. He shrugged and turned back to the steak, but her scrutiny soon interfered with his enjoyment of the meat. He swallowed his most recent bite and then sighed, finally meeting her gaze. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

She leaned back in her seat, cocking her head to one side. "I don't know. You seem… different."

Carth grunted. "Yah, because I'm _clean_."

She smiled. "No, it's not that. It's nothing physical. It's something… else."

"It could be a lot of things," Carth muttered, cutting another bite from his steak, "considering everything that's happened since we last saw each other. But right now I'd just like to finish my steak and my wine and go." He shook his head. "It's been too long. I just want to get this over with."

"That's it," Aayla said.

"What's it?" Carth asked, his mouth already full again.

"Your… intensity," she explained. "It's changed."

Carth blinked at her. "You know, it's amazing how changing from a dancing outfit to an Intelligence outfit makes you so much more cryptic."

Aayla rolled her eyes, leaning forward over the table. "Carth, when I knew you on Nar Shaddaa, I never saw you like this."

"Like what?" Carth demanded, wishing she'd just let him eat and be done with it.

"Tired," Aayla said simply. "Exhausted, worn-out… are you sure you're up for this?"

Carth snorted. "I don't think I have a choice."

"But you do," she whispered. "I know you may not believe it, but when I developed this mission plan I had _your_ well-being in mind as well as the Republic's."

Carth eyed her skeptically, but she continued undaunted.

"I thought, given your history with Revan, that allowing you the chance to destroy her would be the best course of action in these circumstances. Not only because you were the one person who had the greatest chance of success, but because I thought it might also give you a sense of closure personally." She sighed softly, her eyes wandering over his face. "But… after seeing your condition, after speaking with you…." She smiled gently. "You've been through a lot, Carth. I'm beginning to reconsider the effect this mission might have on you. I'm not sure it will be as good as I had thought. You _do_ have a choice; you don't have to do this. You could come back to Coruscant. The case against you isn't solid; there's a very good chance you'll remain within the Fleet –"

"And then what?" Carth interrupted, dropping his utensils and looking Aayla in the face. "I sit back and watch Revan take over the galaxy like everyone else?"

The Twi'lek's expression immediately morphed into one of offended protest, but Carth didn't let her speak.

"No, you were right in what you said earlier. Revan and I still have… unresolved issues between us. Because of that, I'm probably the only person in this galaxy who can get close enough to her to kill her personally. Except for maybe one of her apprentices, but I don't see that happening any time soon." He shook his head. "I'm not going back to Coruscant. I've been waiting a long time for this chance; I'm not passing it up now."

Aayla seemed about to protest again, but then sighed in resignation and nodded. "All right. If you must, I understand. But, please… remember to hang on to your anger."

"Okay," Carth rubbed his eyes, "now you're starting to sound like a Jedi. The bad kind."

"I'm being serious, Carth. Remember all of Vogga's slaves? Most of them started out just as you did, by signing a contract, and were somehow tricked or manipulated into slavery. That cursed Hutt broke their spirits so quickly, they never had a chance. Most succumbed to depression, conforming to a life of slavery with little protest and no hope whatsoever of escape."

"What's your point?"

"You were different," Aayla said. "No matter what Vogga did to you, you kept your head up. He couldn't break you. Your anger kept you focused on a goal, kept you going when you wanted to quit, gave you a purpose when you had nothing else to live for."

Carth squinted at her. "You speaking from experience?"

She glanced down to the table, then lifted her dark eyes to meet his again. "I'm just saying… when you get to the Star Forge, when you get to Revan, don't forget what she's done – what she's doing now. Keep that anger close. It will help keep you focused."

Carth stood from the table, glowering down at the Twi'lek. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" he growled through his teeth. "Do you really think I could forget such things? Revan started the war that killed my wife and made my son a Sith! Then she _used _me to set up her second reign as Dark Lord of the Sith while pretending to be a soldier of the Republic! And you think I'm going to go up there and _forget_ what she's done?" He laughed. "You're using a strong kind of spice, lady."

Aayla stood from the table as well. "Carth, I'm sorry, I didn't know –"

"Well now you do." He snatched up his glass of wine and threw it back, barely tasting it as it went down, then set the empty glass back on the table a little too hard. Aayla flinched as it shattered, but Carth ignored it. He gave the Twi'lek one last, hard look and turned on his heel, heading for the galley door.

"Aren't you going to finish your food?" she called timidly.

"I'm not hungry anymore," he snapped.

The galley door shut noiselessly behind him.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	26. Black and White

**A/N:** MERRY CHRISTMAS! I sort of did it again... I only had this chapter done for about two weeks before posting, but that's better than a month, right? So here is your Christmas present, lol. Hope you enjoy, and thanks sooo much for reading!

* * *

**Black and White**

Carth paced a circle in the miniscule quarters he'd been temporarily assigned to on the Intelligence vessel. Unfortunately the door had no lock, but he'd made sure to keep it closed during the hour that had passed since he'd stormed from the galley. He just wanted some time alone, some time to think.

What Aayla had said during their dinner bothered him. Was it possible he'd given something of his thoughts away in his actions? Had his emotions been so readable? He hoped not. He was a soldier of the Republic; he shouldn't be so transparent.

The doubt began to creep through him again. Maybe Aayla was right. Maybe he wasn't ready for this mission. _That's ridiculous_, he scolded himself. _You've been planning this moment since you first realized she was going to betray you._

He went to the sink of the tiny fresher and leaned on its edge, staring at himself in the mirror and wincing at the reflection. He _did_ look different. The stubble on his jaw had lengthened, his face had thinned considerably, and there were circles under his eyes he wasn't sure even sleep could cure. He _was_ tired - worn out, exhausted, everything Aayla had mentioned. And not just physically.

After splashing cold water over his face, he went back to pacing. He pulled his blaster from the holster Intelligence had provided and studied the weapon. He had shot Revan with it once already; so long ago when she had first found him trying to send a warning to the Republic on the _Ebon Hawk_. He'd felt nothing but hatred in that moment he'd seen her; pulling the trigger had been easy.

His second chance was supposed to have been just as easy. He sat down on the bunk, holding the blaster in two hands so the Onasi family crest became clearly visible. _Don't forget what she's done – what she's doing now._ He gritted his teeth, dropping his head to his hands so the cool side of the blaster pressed against his forehead. Ultimately, Revan was responsible for the bombing of Telos. She had taken that life from him in the blink of an eye. She was also responsible for the deaths of millions of others.

He could never forget that. But now he couldn't forget that last vision in the tomb, either. The expression on her face as she lay dying in his arms haunted him. She had seemed so surprised, so hurt… as if she had trusted him inexplicably with her life, and he had completely and absolutely violated that trust without reason.

_I had reason…._ He stood again and resumed his furious pacing. He'd told himself over and over it had never really happened, that it had just been Revan playing with his mind. But it had seemed so real, and what he'd felt…

He shook his head, holstering the blaster and desperately wishing the room's synthesizer made something stronger than Andoan wine.

"_I loved you… come back with me…" _Her words drifted back to him.

Carth punched the button for the wine anyway and gulped it down as if it were nothing more than Bribb juice. Why did he feel like he was betraying his family? _You're scared._ The thought crept in uninvited and Carth got another glass of wine. _What happens when you finally get to Revan? After you've gotten your answers, then what? Will you really kill her? Can you go through that again? Would it even be the same? What if what she said in that hallucination is really how she feels? _

He drank a third glass of wine, oblivious to the burn in his throat that followed. _What if there really is some of Moriel left in her? Could you destroy that chance for good?_

Was it even right of him to ask such questions? He thought of Morgana and Dustil and the guilt settled on his shoulders as heavy as any suit of Bonadan armor. Revan had killed them, and here he was contemplating the chances of saving her.

A soft knock came from the door and Carth jumped, nearly spilling his wine on the crisp white sheets of the bunk. He finished the fourth glass just as the muffled voice of the Jedi Master asked, "Captain Onasi? May I speak to you for a moment?"

Carth cleared his throat, looking around for a place to hide his wine goblet. The room offered few nooks and crannies, however, and Carth eventually gave up. What did it matter if he'd had a few drinks, anyway? "Yah, come on in," he called.

The door slid open and Master Faxx stepped through, greeting Carth with a nod. The Jedi glanced around the room, then brought his gaze back to the soldier. "I hope I'm not intruding?"

Carth shook his head. "I was just… thinking."

The Jedi nodded. "That's understandable. How are you feeling about all this?"

Carth smiled at the man. That was possibly the most ridiculous question he'd heard yet. But he restrained the sarcastic remark that first came to his lips and said instead, "Oh, as well as I can, given the circumstances, I guess."

"You sure you're up for this?"

Carth eyed the Jedi Master as he made his way back to the synthesizer. Faxx was very average in appearance, with a medium build, shortly cropped brown hair and gray eyes. Carth suspected the man could blend in most anywhere... but for a Jedi, his demeanor wasn't very subtle. His gaze was too sharp, his stance too stiff. So the soldier shrugged.

"I've been trying to get to Revan for a year now," Carth said. "I'm ready." He hit the button for another Andoan wine, but the synthesizer only beeped at him in an admonishing tone. The selection screen flashed a red message box that read: 'Alcoholic beverage limit has been reached. Unable to fill request.' He gave the machine a scathing look.

"I take it you've been drinking," the Jedi commented blandly.

"Yah," Carth admitted, punching the button a few more times just for the hell of it. "And I'd give some real money for a hit of juma about now." He turned back to Faxx, giving up on the synthesizer, which continued to beep in protest. "Any chance you could reprogram that thing to make me one?"

The Jedi Master clasped his hands behind his back. "Not likely. Our superiors disapprove of drunkenness on the organization's vessels."

Carth straightened indignantly. "I am not drunk, Master Jedi."

Faxx gave a low nod in acknowledgement. "I never said you were. However, when given a free flow of alcoholic beverages, most sentient beings find themselves in that state sooner than they expect. Thus the limit. It prevents… temptation."

Carth lifted one eyebrow and grunted unhappily.

The Jedi cleared his throat. "Captain, would you like to discuss what happened in your hallucination?"

_Ah. So that's what he really came for. _Carth sighed heavily and sat down on the bunk again. _Hallucination._ He hated that word. "To be honest, no," he answered finally. "I'd prefer not to. But I'm guessing you'd like to hear about it anyway."

The Jedi Master took a few steps forward, his face creasing in a frown. "I can't and won't force you to tell me anything, Captain. But knowing what you saw could be useful information. It's very likely whatever she showed you was related to the reason she wants to meet you again."

"It was," Carth said, turning his empty wine glass around in his fingers. "She knows I want to kill her. I think it was a test."

"A test? What kind of test?"

Carth paused before answering, choosing his words carefully. He was well aware of the fact Faxx would be judging his replies and reactions just as closely as any jury. "A test to see if I would actually go through with it," the soldier said quietly. "To see if I would actually kill her."

"And… in this hallucination, you were successful in doing that?"

"Yes." Carth didn't feel it was necessary to mention how close he'd come to _not _doing it, nor did he feel inclined to mention the terrible, crushing grief that had overcome him afterwards.

"Did she say anything to you before you shot her?" Master Faxx asked next.

_I can't do it alone; I need your help…_ Carth's throat seemed to close in on itself, but somehow he found himself saying, "Nothing significant. Just the usual… the Republic is failing, she did what she had to do, and so on."

"Interesting." The Jedi stroked his chin. "Do you think she was trying to convince you to join her?"

"Probably." Carth answered the question as casually as Master Faxx had posed it.

"Do you think that's why she wants you to come to her? So she can recruit you?"

Carth had no doubt Revan ultimately sought that end, but he said, "She's already tried that once. And she failed."

The Jedi Master shrugged. "Yes, but many things have changed since then. Maybe she thinks you've changed, too."

Carth caught the implicative tone in the statement and looked to the other man sharply. The soldier rose from the bunk, but another knock came from the doorway before he could offer the Jedi a rebuttal.

Both men turned their attention to the door to see Aayla standing there. "Briefing room, please, gentlemen," she said. And then she turned to lead the way.

Master Faxx looked back to Carth, giving a low bow. "It seems our conversation is over, Captain. Thank you for your time, it has been most educational."

"Likewise," Carth muttered, and he handed off his wine glass to the Jedi as he exited the room, leaving the man to stare at the goblet in bewilderment.

As relieved as he had been to escape Master Faxx's interrogation, Carth's spirits fell again as he entered the sparsely decorated briefing room. He and Master Faxx were not the only ones who had been summoned there. All the other agents waited for him, sitting at a long, oval table equipped with a small holoprojector. Carth sat heavily in the seat offered to him and looked around in dismay at the agents who had already gathered there. All eyes rested on him and he shifted uneasily in his chair.

As soon as Aayla and the Jedi had taken their seats, the agent directly across from Carth stood and gave him a nod. The man was tall, his black hair graying at the temples, and his blue eyes were so bright and piercing Carth almost winced as they fixed on him. "Captain Onasi," the man said in a deep baritone voice, "thank you for joining us. We know you must be anxious to get on your way, so we'll keep this short. We just wanted to touch base with you on a few of the more important aspects of your mission."

Carth waited silently, and once the agent realized he wasn't going to get a reply, he slid a datapad across the table. Carth pulled the device toward him, flipping it on and scrolling through the contained information.

"That datapad contains a partial map of the Star Forge," the agent continued, "as well as what we've calculated to be the best approach vector and docking bay."

"Only a partial map?" Carth asked sardonically, unable to help himself.

The agent's lips formed a tight line. "Darth Revan seems to have an uncanny ability to detect the agents we place among her ranks. We pieced the map together from what information they could send before they were discovered."

Carth grimaced at the thought, knowing most of those captured agents probably faced the Silencer at some point. Who knew what sort of Republic secrets Revan was now privy to…

"You should take this as well," another, less intimidating agent spoke up, pushing a stealth field generator and enhancer in his direction. "There's no telling what kind of reception you'll get upon docking. Better to cloak yourself and go in unseen for as long as you can."

"And we'll provide you with some gas and plasma grenades," a third agent said, obviously the youngest of the group. "We advise killing from a distance. Less chance of an incident that way."

"Especially given what I've learned from our discussion," Master Faxx spoke up. "It seems likely Revan will attempt to persuade you to join her. And Revan has always been a very persuasive talker. So… don't give her a chance to talk. Strike from a distance if at all possible."

"All the grenades are equipped with magnetic lock targeters," the third agent continued, "so they should be immune to almost all types of Force influence."

"Almost all?" Carth asked apprehensively.

The agent shrugged. "There's always the risk a Jedi could Force-activate the grenade while it was still on your person. However, even that is unlikely."

Carth briefly considered the consequences should a plasma grenade go off while still on his belt and decided he didn't much like the resulting mental picture. "I think I'd just prefer to use my blaster."

"We have a modified combat suit for you as well," the first agent said. "It's was built with a cortosis weave and should be highly resistant to both blasters and lightsabers. It's also got a bio-restorative underlay. Not that we're anticipating any such trouble for you," the man added, "but it's always better to be prepared."

"And the last issue," Aayla said, causing all heads to turn her direction, "is that of your ship. Originally we planned for you to take the G-wing we brought with us. However, that ship's transponder codes would be unfamiliar to Revan, and you would have a greater chance of being shot down before any of your hails were received. Therefore, it has been decided that you should take the bounty hunter's ship."

Carth blinked. "The bounty hunter… but… isn't he long gone by now?"

The Twi'lek shook her head. "We've been monitoring his ship since we landed, but there's been no activity. The energy read-outs suggest some kind of power failure, but I'm confident we can fix that well enough to get you to the Star Forge."

"Is he still on the ship?" Carth asked.

"As far as we know," Aayla said. "At least, he hasn't disembarked since we've been here."

Carth stood abruptly from his chair and left the room; the agents sat in confusion for a second, but then rushed after him.

"Where are you going?" Master Faxx asked. "We haven't finished –"

"I'm going to find Veeren Siege," Carth said, speaking over the Jedi and patting the blaster at his hip. "I owe him a little something."

The soldier punched the button to lower the boarding ramp amid a slew of protests, but Aayla finally silenced the others with orders to retrieve Carth's needed supplies and meet them at Siege's ship. Carth went on without her, but it didn't take her long to catch up, and the two of them walked silently toward the valley.

The storm had waned somewhat; the rumble of thunder was distant, and though the rain still came down steadily, it wasn't nearly as heavy as it had been. Carth moved at a determined pace despite the mud that now dominated the downhill path, half hoping to leave Aayla behind. The audacity of her words in the galley still stung him, and he'd had about enough of her Intelligence people and their "advice" for dealing with Revan.

They had no idea. No idea what it was like to get to know someone so well, only to realize that personality had been created to cover up someone entirely different. No idea what it was like to finally find someone to love again, only to watch helplessly as that person turned into a monster. No idea what it was like to wonder whether that person's returned expressions of love were true, or just another ruse used to manipulate and control.

Carth's steps quickened with his thoughts. He was oblivious to Aayla's presence behind him until she cried out in alarm. He spun around just in time to catch her flailing arm and keep her from falling full out into the mud. He steadied her and she nodded to him.

"Thanks."

"You all right?" Carth asked, briefly scanning their surroundings to search for anything unusual. The rain made it hard to see, but there was no sign of anyone following, friend or foe.

"Yah," Aayla answered, trying to wipe the rain from her face. "I just slipped. Damn mud. And why are we walking so fast, anyway?"

Carth released her arm, resuming his march to the valley with no less speed. "I want to catch Veeren Siege."

"And what exactly are you planning to do then?" the Twi'lek asked, struggling to keep up with the soldier. "You can't kill him."

Carth stopped abruptly and faced her. "Why not?"

"We need to question him."

Carth narrowed his eyes. "Even after what he did to you? What he did to those officers at Headquarters?"

Aayla met his glare with one of her own. "He will stand trial for what he's done," she said. "But first, we'd like to see what he knows."

"All right, then," Carth said, turning his back to the Twi'lek once more. "I'll just repay him for some of the pain he's caused."

"Well… I can't say I'd stop you from doing that."

"Good."

The freighter soon came into view and the two of them crouched behind the last rocky outcropping before the stretching plain of the Valley of the Dark Lords. Carth brought up his blaster, peering around the edge of the rock to survey as much of the valley as he could see.

"You're sure Siege is still on the ship?" he asked, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the storm.

"No, not _sure_," Aayla replied, also keeping her voice low. "But since we've been monitoring his ship, he hasn't come out or gone in."

Carth frowned, his eyes sweeping the ship and the surrounding valley. The boarding ramp was still down; a good sign. But other than that, there were no clues as to Siege's whereabouts. However, if there had been a power failure, as Aayla said, then the most logical place for the bounty hunter to be was aboard his ship, attempting to fix the problem.

Carth tightened his grip on his blaster and looked to Aayla. "You stay here. I'll go check out the ship and signal you when it's clear."

Aayla scoffed. "Oh, I don't think so, soldier. I'm going with you. In case you forgot, I _do_ know how to take care of myself." She pulled a small hold-out blaster from a boot holster and checked the carbine to make sure it was full. "Besides, you know as well as I do we have a better chance of defeating him together."

"I really think I should do this alone."

Her dark eyes locked his gaze; little rivulets of water ran down her blue-skinned face and dripped off her eyelashes. "No way, flyboy. I know how you think; I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Carth growled.

"That look in your eyes," Aayla explained. "I've seen it before. It's the same way you looked before you took Vogga's freighter."

"Yah? Well then it must be my I'm-tired-of-being-used-and-I'm-getting-the-flaming-hell-out-of-here look." He gave her a pointed glare.

"Exactly. Which is why I'm going with you."

Carth narrowed his glare and considered arguing with her further, but in the end decided against it. It would only waste time they didn't have, and he had little chance of success, anyway. He gave a reluctant nod. "Fine. Then watch my back."

And before she could protest the order, he left the shelter of the rock and trotted over the soggy ground of the valley toward the _Iridonian Star_. He reached the boarding ramp and threw his back against one of the hydraulic struts, holding his blaster in both hands and scanning the valley again with his eyes. The only movement was that of the rain and Aayla coming in a crouching run to join him on the opposite side of the ramp.

They stood still for a long moment, watching and listening. Carth peered up into the interior of the ship. There were lights on, but no sound of activity above the drumming of rain against the durasteel hull. He looked to Aayla; she gave him a nod. He signaled with two fingers to indicate his preferred search formation, and then they moved together up the ramp, shoulder to shoulder, their blasters leading.

They separated at the common room, each covering one side of the ship, and met back at the ramp. But Veeren Siege was nowhere to be found.

"Find anything?" Aayla asked.

Carth shook his head. "He's got some interesting things in his medic, and an abnormally large passenger dorm, but I didn't see any clues as to where he might have gone. How about you?"

The Twi'lek sighed. "Well, I had to use a few security tunnelers on two of his doors. One turned out to be his personal quarters… nothing real interesting there. The other was a small storeroom, but it contained mostly just basic supplies. I didn't find anything helpful, either."

"We should check his logs," Carth suggested.

"I already did," Aayla said. "Most of them were encrypted." She tapped a datapad hooked to her belt. "I downloaded them to this, but I'll have to take them back to our ship to even start decoding them. He's smart, this Zabrak. Very smart."

Carth frowned, hearing the note of concern in her voice. "So… what's wrong?" he asked.

Aayla looked around the ship, seeming to search for something. "It's just that…" She shook her head. "I checked the engine read-outs while in the cockpit. They say the power failure was caused by a few faulty power couplings."

"So maybe he went to look for parts," Carth offered.

"He could have. Except, why would he go look for parts when he has plenty of spare power couplings packed away in the storeroom I found?"

"Oh." An odd sensation passed through Carth's being, but he shook it off. "Siege can't still be on the ship," Carth insisted, for his benefit as much as Aayla's. "He wouldn't have let us search it without showing himself."

"I agree with you," Aayla said. "Still, I don't like not knowing where he is or when he might be back."

"Should I take the G-wing, then?" Carth asked.

Aayla shook her head again. "No. It won't take long to install the new power couplings. In the meantime, we can set up a perimeter watch to keep an eye out for him in case he returns to the area." She keyed her com. "Agent Durg, the _Iridonian Star_ is clear. There's no sign of the bounty hunter in the vicinity; we'll need the equipment to set up an invisible perimeter."

"Copy that. Equipment en route. Durg out."

Aayla replaced the com on her belt, then looked to Carth. "Well, let's go check out those engines, shall we?"

Carth followed her to the engine room, which required another security tunneler and some extensive rewiring to unlock without knowing the code. They stepped inside the massive chamber and faced a wall of four towering engine drives. Aayla hit the wall button to turn on the service lights and Carth blinked as the huge machines were suddenly illuminated.

"Whoa."

"That's an understatement," Aayla echoed, walking over to run a hand along the starboard engine's exhaust fan. "I'm surprised these things run at all with all the mods he's got strung on…." She gently fingered some cross wires. "He's either insane, or a mechanical genius."

"I wondered how he managed to outrun Coruscant's patrol so quickly," Carth murmured, still staring in awe at the contraptions that barely still resembled engines. With difficulty he finally turned his eyes back to Aayla. "Will you still be able to repair them?"

The Twi'lek nodded. "Yes. But it will take a little longer than I first anticipated." She moved toward the other side of the room. "The computer said the port-side engines were the ones having the prob-." She drew up short with a gasp, and Carth immediately went to her side. The question died on his lips as he, too, saw what had induced her reaction.

A good portion of the two port engines and the side wall had been blackened, as if by electricity. One engine's service panel lay open, the wires within spilling out onto the floor in a broken heap, exposed ends still sparking.

"Well," Aayla said.

Carth looked at the mess, that odd feeling coming back to him in full force. Something wasn't right about any of this…

"Faulty power coupling, indeed," Aayla huffed. "More like _missing_ power coupling and _completely destroyed_ power coupling. I swear one of these days I'm going to have a visit with these freighter manufacturers. Their diagnostics are never specific enough… and for stars' sake, how could this have happened in the first place? Unless maybe his cross-wiring at the –"

Carth gripped her arm, stopping her rant in mid-sentence. She turned to him with a startled expression.

"Force lightening," he said gruffly.

Aayla blinked. "What?"

"Force lightening," he repeated, a chill racing up his spine. "I've seen it before." He gestured to the scouring on the wall and engines. "The pattern is the same."

"But… that would mean…"

"Revan."

They both glanced around the chamber again uneasily.

"How can you be sure it was her?" Aayla whispered.

"She was here, when we landed," Carth replied, also whispering. "Now she's gone, and so is Siege."

"You think Revan took him?"

"I don't know. But from the looks of things she came aboard and wasn't too happy. At the very least she scared him off. Maybe she disabled his ship to strand him here."

"But he had the parts –"

"What about the time?" Carth asked pointedly. "Maybe he detected your ship approaching and was forced to delay his repairs."

Aayla considered this possibility. "Perhaps," she consented. "Well then," she raised her voice back to normal level, "whatever Revan's intentions were, I plan on stranding him here myself. The repairs will take a little more time than expected, but you'll be off soon enough. And then Veeren Siege, if he's still on Korriban, will be hard pressed to escape our detection." She headed for the engine room door. "I'll just get the necessary tools… you might want to go help set up the perimeter, Captain. I'll be awhile."

The last thing Carth wanted to do at the moment was help set up the perimeter. He wanted nothing more to do with any of the agents Aayla had brought with her. The Twi'lek had been quite accurate in her reading of his expression earlier. He had fully intended on leaving the surface of Korriban before Intelligence's official send-off if at all possible. However, Aayla had successfully foiled that plan. And now that he'd seen what the engines looked like, Carth wasn't necessarily unhappy with her for doing so. He would have had a hard time repairing that damage himself. Still, he wasn't looking forward in the least to spending more time among the agents.

Nevertheless, the soldier soon found himself out in the rain again, ankle-deep in mud and swearing as he struggled to fit one of the sensor pylons into a rocky crevice at the edge of the valley. This whole affair had taken far too long already, in his opinion. If Siege _was _still on-planet, he'd probably returned a long time ago, and was now crouched just out of sensor range, watching the agents through his micros and laughing at their clumsy efforts to catch him.

_Or… he could be at Revan's mercy, being tortured by HK. Maybe the droid needs to test the Silencer on Zabrak anatomy._ The thought brought a grim smile to Carth's face, and he finally settled the pylon into place. The com he'd been provided with beeped just as he finished, and he unclipped it from his belt. "Yah?"

"Is your sensor in place yet, Captain?"

Agent Durg again. Carth rolled his eyes. "It is now. Just finished."

"Excellent. Investigator Surra has just finished the ship's repairs. Go ahead and make your way back now, we should have everything up and running by the time you return."

Carth scowled, looking back over the gray expanse of the valley to where the freighter rested, barely visible through the rain and distance. "Copy that," he said, and clicked the com off, returning it to his belt. It hadn't escaped his notice they had given him the furthest point of the perimeter to set up. But, being as he preferred little contact with any of them anyway, he hadn't protested. He began the long walk back to the ship, his head bowed against the onslaught of water still pouring from the sky.

_Investigator Surra._ He still couldn't get used to that. If he hadn't of seen the official orders from the Minister of Defense himself, Carth wasn't sure he would have believed any of them at all.

His teeth started to chatter, and he regretted his earlier decision to forego more layers of clothing. But he was nearly there now, and once he got back to the _Iridonian Star_ he could get off this rock and away from these cursed Intelligence agents… and into some dry clothes. Best of all, Carth was quite sure Veeren Siege hadn't put any alcoholic beverage limits on his synthesizers.

* * *

One standard hour later, Carth was at the _Iridonian Star_'s controls, once again dry and freshly clothed. Only Aayla and the Jedi Master remained on the ship, the others had gone back to begin monitoring their perimeter sensor readings. They had left a footlocker full of the equipment they'd discussed during the briefing in the common room, and yet both Aayla and Master Faxx still seemed reluctant to leave.

Carth ignored them, fixing his whole attention on plotting the best course for the Star Forge and going through the pre-flight checks. The controls were much like the _Ebon Hawk_'s, but after seeing what Siege had done to the _Star_'s engines, Carth didn't want to underestimate the bounty hunter's freighter.

"Don't forget your supplies are in the footlocker," Aayla spoke up suddenly, appearing behind the pilot's chair.

"And use distance to your advantage if you can," Master Faxx added, coming to stand beside the Twi'lek.

"The repairs I made should hold till you reach the Star Forge," Aayla continued. "But I wouldn't push the engines too hard. Try to avoid combat, tractor beams, you know, that kind of thing."

Carth twisted in his seat to look at her. "Right," he said dryly. "I'll try my best."

"And you have our transmission codes?" the Jedi asked.

"Yes," Carth replied wearily. "I've triple-checked them. And yes, I remember the plan: I'll radio you when I reach the Star Forge, and again if I succeed in killing Revan. But if you don't hear from me within twenty-four hours of the first contact, I think it'll be safe to assume I'm dead."

Aayla swallowed hard at his blunt statement.

Master Faxx nodded gravely. "May the Force be with you, Captain."

"And be careful," the Twi'lek added quietly.

Carth looked at them for a second, then turned back to the bulkhead. "Thanks." It wasn't the most genuine show of appreciation, but Carth knew their sentiments weren't really for his personal safety. He was just a tool to them, and if a tool couldn't accomplish its task, then what good was it? _It doesn't matter_, he thought gloomily. _I got what I wanted out of this deal, too_.

He heard their footsteps fade away, and soon saw them disembark via the video feed from the boarding ramp's small camera. Carth hit the switch to warm the engines and raised the ramp as they disappeared from view.

Shortly afterwards, Aayla's voice came through the com, "We're clear, Carth. You're set for take-off. Good luck."

"Acknowledged," Carth replied, "I'll contact you in about five days." He turned off the com and gently lifted the freighter off the ground, surprised at how lightly it handled. He tilted the nose toward sky and took off up into the storm, all too happy to leave Korriban far behind him.

* * *

Aayla stood side by side with Jedi Master Alex Faxx, both of them shielding their eyes against the rain to watch as the _Iridonian Star_ roared away into the clouds. Even as the sound of its engines faded beneath the noise of the storm, Aayla kept staring after it.

Eventually her Jedi colleague faced her, folding his hands inside the very wet sleeves of his robe. "Having second thoughts?" he asked.

Aayla startled, bringing her eyes down to him. She met his gray gaze and pursed her lips. "Yes," she said. "I am. I'm wondering if this plan is worth all the lives that were sacrificed for it."

The Jedi regarded her calmly. "I assume you're referring to those the bounty hunter murdered in Fleet Headquarters. But we had no way of knowing the Zabrak would be so trigger-happy. Nor could we predict Onasi would be brought here rather than the Star Forge."

Aayla made no reply, turning her gaze back to the swiftly dissipating trail of exhaust the freighter had left in its wake. There was a short silence, in which she could still just barely hear the whine of engines.

Faxx looked at her abruptly. "You didn't tell him about the detonator, did you?"

She sighed heavily. "No." Her fingers absently brushed over the ridges of scar tissue on her arm left by Vogga's brand. She peered at the Jedi Master. "Why? You don't think he'll follow through?"

"His emotions for Revan are strong," Faxx answered, "but confused. Carth Onasi has always been one to view things in black and white. Now… I got the impression a gray area has entered his mind. He is uncertain, undecided. And that means eventually he will have to make a decision. He will have to make a choice. I'm just not sure that choice will be the one we want him to make."

Aayla faced the Jedi incredulously, crossing her arms. "After all he's done for the Republic, after all he's suffered at the hands of the Sith, you really think Carth Onasi would join Darth Revan?"

Master Faxx remained devoid of expression. His eyes went toward the sky again. "What I think is irrelevant, Investigator. I only know the impressions I sensed from speaking with him. And as troubling as it is, whatever Revan made him see in that tomb… I think it changed him. I think it made him reconsider his world of black and white."

The Twi'lek frowned at the Jedi's words, doubt settling like a weight in her stomach. She had been so sure, so confident… and Carth's explosion in the galley had only strengthened her hope. He wouldn't forget the horrors Revan had inflicted upon the galaxy. He couldn't.

"And that's why we have the detonator," Faxx intoned.

"But we'll give him a chance to destroy her on his own, first," Aayla said firmly.

"We'll give him twelve hours after first contact," Faxx said.

Aayla glared at the Jedi, swearing the man could be more unfeeling and impersonal than even the most experienced of Intelligence field agents.

Faxx seemed to sense her displeasure; he looked over to her and shook his head. "He said himself it would be a one-way trip. He knew what he was getting into."

_Did he?_ Aayla bit her lip. She had grown to know Carth well through their year of slavery on Nar Shaddaa. He was a good man, better than most she had ever worked with, hands down. She hated to see him throw his life away, even if it was for the greater good of the galaxy. But it would be utterly intolerable to lose him if nothing good came from his death. If this plan failed – if _her_ plan failed, Aayla knew she would never forgive herself. "I'd like to think there's still a chance he could survive this," she whispered.

Master Faxx lifted his eyes to the clouds. The sounds of the ship had gone completely, leaving the two of them standing alone in the valley, surrounded by mud and awash in the rain.

"If the Force wills it," the Jedi said.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	27. Past and Present

**Author's Note:** THANKS SO MUCH to my beta Rian Sage, her suggestions really helped this chapter out! Don't know what I'd do without you, girl! Also, the conversation in the flashback of this chapter is based off of actual game dialogue, although I have changed it slightly to better fit the purposes of this fic. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Past and Present**

Carth sat on a lounge couch in the common room of the _Iridonian Star_, one boot propped up on the low table in front of him, one hand loosely holding an untouched glass of juma. He stared fixedly at his blaster, lying bare on the table, but his thoughts drifted far away from the weapon.

The ship would drop out of hyperspace in a mere three hours, bringing Carth within visual range of the Star Forge. And the closer he came to the automated shipyard, the more he considered turning the freighter back toward Republic space.

_Republic space._ Carth drew in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. _If I don't do this, that may not exist much longer. _He stood from the couch, beginning to pace the now-very-familiar circle around the common room. Carth had spent most of the hyperspace journey pacing, drinking, and arguing with himself. No matter how many times he'd made up his mind one way or another, the doubt always came back. Doubt over whether or not his decision was the right one, doubt over his ability to perform the task set to him by Republic Intelligence, doubt over his interpretation of Revan's words in her illusion, and doubt in his own integrity.

So many things were at stake. So many planets, so many lives… the Galactic Republic itself. Yet Carth often found himself considering his own life, his own wants and desires, his own fears. Such selfish concerns made him feel guilty, but for all his efforts to keep the greater good of the galaxy in mind, everything eventually led back to himself.

"And why shouldn't it?" Carth muttered aloud in his own defense, attempting for the millionth time to ease the guilt. "I'm the one marching into a Sith-infested, dark-sided space station. I'm the one risking my neck while the rest of them sit back and watch."

He drank down the juma and refilled the glass from the nearby synthesizer. Morgana's voice drifted through his head, _"The Republic _used_ you. They wasted your life. They cost you your wife, your son, your home. You have nothing now because of them."_

"Not Morgana," he whispered gruffly, resolutely. "Morgana would have never said such things." But the doubt still squirmed in his chest, making his words sound hollow. Regardless of whether that nightmare had been Revan's creation or his own, the beginning argument within it had been real. The last two years before Morgana's death were rough on the marital front. Morgana had been unhappy with his assignments, most of which he volunteered for. She'd been unhappy with the progress of the war, and with the growing amount of time he spent away from home.

"_You always did choose the Fleet over your family!"_ The words still made him flinch. Until his nightmare in the tomb, he had somehow managed to forget that Morgana had accused him of that several times over the course of their marriage. He had always stubbornly denied there was any truth to the statement.

It had taken him eight years to realize she'd been right. _Oh Morgana, I'm so sorry._ Even her death hadn't been enough to show him the truth. Instead he'd thrown himself all the more vigorously into the Fleet, into war, determined to drown his grief and guilt in the deaths of his enemies. It was only now, while he contemplated his chances against one of the most powerful Dark Jedi in the galaxy, that Carth Onasi saw the full scope of his life, both past and present.

And he saw that he had lost. He had lost years of his life trying to be a part of the greater good, in lusting after the destruction of the Republic's enemies, in plotting revenge against his own personal adversaries. He'd lost a wife to that blind ambition, long before her actual death in the bombing of Telos. He'd lost a son because of his absence as a father, because of his failure to instill a code of ethics within the boy that would have made him immune to the corruption of the Sith. And he had lost the only other person who had ever truly made him feel whole and at peace since Dustil and Morgana… Moriel Ithilio.

He had told Moriel on their way to Rakata Prime that he hoped he could save her from herself should she make the wrong choice in whatever lay ahead. But… he had failed in that, too. After all they'd been through together, the exchange of so many words and promises, even the recognition of the feelings he'd developed for her, Carth's attempt had been weak and short-lived. He had chosen to run, instead. Then he'd turned to hatred as his guide, as he had so many times before.

"_You have nothing now…."_

Carth swallowed hard, his eyes going back to his blaster on the table. He'd thrown away everything that should have ever mattered in his life, whether consciously or unconsciously. And all he had to show for his sacrifices were a few medals of honor and a pending court-martial. His life had never seemed so meaningless.

Carth gulped down his second glass of juma, looking through the doorway of the cockpit to the tunnel of hyperspace beyond the viewport. _Why are you afraid to do this? _he asked himself. _Whatever that nightmare was, it was right. You have nothing to go back to, no one waiting for you. Nothing to lose. _

He sighed heavily. _And nothing to gain._

He walked to the couch and picked up his blaster.

"_I loved you. Come back with me." _Carth closed his eyes. Every time he remembered those words, her pleading expression, her somber eyes, he couldn't help but want another chance to try and save her. He had seen too much of Moriel in that face. Perhaps it had all been a hallucination, but the illusion had originated from somewhere. If Revan was behind it, as Master Faxx believed, then surely some of those sentiments had come from the Dark Lord herself.

_She's all I have left_, Carth mused, and it was a harrowing thought, because he suddenly realized he didn't want to lose her. As long as there was a chance the woman he had fallen in love with was still there, somewhere, he wanted to find her. He couldn't endure the agony he'd suffered in the Korriban tomb a second time. Not unless he was absolutely sure he had no other choice.

With his decision made, Carth holstered his blaster and moved toward the cockpit, resolving to occupy himself with the controls before he could reconsider what he was about to do.

Three hours. Three hours to figure out how the hell he was supposed to convince a Dark Lord of the Sith to rejoin the Republic.

* * *

Revan looked out into the stretching void of space from the Forge's main observation window. It seemed she stood in front of this window more and more lately. The unbroken, panoramic view of the sprawling stars and unending abyss between them reminded her of all she had yet to accomplish. Much of the Galactic Republic's territory still remained unconquered. Much of the territory beyond that still remained unexplored and unmapped. And somewhere out there in that unknown still lurked the true Sith; the darkness that was darker than space, the evil more twisted than Malachor V - the source of the cold tendrils of the Force that touched her senses in her sleep. And sometimes, while she was still awake….

They were gathering. Growing. Whoever – _what_ever – they were, she could feel the power even from where she stood light-years away. And she wondered if she would have enough time. Her fleet grew by the day, her military recruits by the week, her empire by the month. But for all of her victorious conquests, her power still remained only a trifle of what she sensed from beyond.

She wondered if they were like her. Were they seeking to expand their empire? Would they cross the border into known space, and if they did, would any race of beings be able to stop them?

_I am the only one_, she thought absently. _The only one in this galaxy who might have a chance against them. The Jedi Order is weak and shattered; the Republic fleet is useless. But I… I have the Star Forge. I have the Infinite Fleet. I will make my empire, and I will make it strong enough to defend against them when they come. Unless…_

She narrowed her gaze, as if it could pierce hundreds of millions of kilometers of space to look upon the Sith directly. _Unless I went to them first_, she completed the thought. She had mulled over that possibility for some weeks now, but was still hesitant to leave her operations in the hands of lesser individuals. Bastila did not have the necessary war experience, Kreia was too ambitious, and Canderous' battle strategies still reeked too much of Mandalorian.

There was only one other person the Dark Lord would have ever considered leaving in charge. One that she would have trusted completely to carry out her plans in her absence, had he not betrayed her for the sake of his precious Republic. The thought made her hands curl into fists…

_Moriel Ithilio paced the length of the narrow corridor, every now and then tossing glances up to the cockpit's closed door. Carth was in there. He was always in there, and ever since he'd learned she had once been Revan, he'd taken to closing the door. It wasn't locked, but no one had yet dared to open it unless the pilot called on them first. _

_Moriel stopped pacing, turning to face the door. It had been two weeks since her last conversation with Carth, and that one hadn't ended to her satisfaction. _I just need some time_, he had said. Well, she had given him time. She had given him space. Despite being stuck on the same ship for the whole of two weeks – a ship that wasn't that big – the two of them had hardly seen each other, much less spoken to each other. _

_Moriel was growing impatient. She was growing angry. Did everything they had endured together mean nothing to him? How could he cut off their interaction so easily, so effortlessly? Didn't he miss her at all? Didn't he yearn again for their long nights in the cockpit, reveling in the beauty of hyperspace, discussing the wonders of the universe? Their early games of pazaak over steaming cups of caf while the rest of the crew was still asleep… their long, hot showers together in the tiny fresher after hard battles… the unity of mind and body during combat, how they each knew what the other would do before it was done…._

_She suddenly realized there were tears in her eyes and she blinked them back quickly, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed her standing so morose in the middle of the hallway. But the corridor was empty. She was still alone._

_Alone. The sting of tears came again and Moriel ground her teeth to fight them. But the ache in her heart was nearly unbearable. She didn't want to be alone. She wanted to be with Carth. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, feel his fingers through her hair, hear his voice in her ear telling her everything would be all right. _

_She had tried to be strong. Tried to be patient. She had even tried convincing herself she didn't need him, that he was just a distraction, an unneeded weight that held her back. But she had failed in all those things. Miserably. As much as it pained her to admit such a weakness, she had come to the conclusion that she needed Carth Onasi. She needed his affection, his support, his encouragement. Without such things, she felt lost. Even their quest to find the last of the Star Maps had seemed less important, less urgent._

_She couldn't stand the anxiety any longer. She had to talk to him. She had to know…. Moriel took a deep breath, released it slowly, and marched up to the cockpit door. She straightened her shoulders and attempted to build a shield around her heart. Just in case… just in case he looked at her with that same burning hatred he'd had for Saul._

_Moriel's chest tightened at the thought. _Please, Carth. You must realize I am the same person I've always been to you. Malak's revelation changed nothing… I am still the same…

_But the mental image of Carth glaring at her in hatred stuck in her mind. It gave her a cold, hollow feeling in her insides that she didn't like. She shook it off with difficulty and turned her attention back to the door. There was no way to know unless she did this. So, without a second thought, Moriel Ithilio raised her hand and knocked._

_There was a brief moment of silence, and Moriel's heart hung suspended in her chest._

"_Yah?" _

_She exhaled at the sound of his low voice, then cleared her throat. "Carth, it's me. Can we talk?"_

_Another moment of silence followed; so long Moriel had opened her mouth to repeat her question before he answered, "Sure."_

_The relief made her legs weak and Moriel took a second to compose herself again before she hit the button to open the doors. Carth sat in the pilot's seat, silhouetted by the spiraling tunnel of hyperspace. He didn't turn around as she entered. Her eyes were locked on his form as she slowly drew up beside him. But he kept his attention focused on the flight controls, despite the fact Moriel knew as well as he did there was no need for him to monitor the ship so closely in hyperspace. She stood awkwardly for a second, but when he still didn't acknowledge her, Moriel sank down into the copilot's chair. She turned her head to watch him silently as he pretended to work. For all the things she had wanted to say to him just on the other side of the door, she now found she had no idea how to begin. The fact he wouldn't look at her made it harder. But… at least he had let her in. At least she was here, within sight of him… within reach of him._

"_I thought you came to talk," he said, and the sudden words startled her. _

_She cleared her throat again, looking down to her hands. "Um… yah, I did."_

"_So…?"_

_Moriel glanced up at him, but he was still scrolling through the engine efficiency read-outs. She sighed. "Are you going to listen to me?"_

"_Why else would you be here?"_

_Her gaze narrowed. "Well then why don't you stop acting like you have so much to do and look at me?"_

_Carth stopped scrolling. He sat back in his seat and ran his hands over his face. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. His dark eyes flicked over to her face briefly, but then he looked away again and stood from the pilot's seat. He paced to the back of the cockpit. "I've just, uh… just been trying to occupy myself with meaningless things for so long now…" He gave a half-hearted shrug, his eyes going everywhere but to her._

"_Carth," she said softly._

_His eyes came to her at last and she held them with her own gaze, searching with both her physical sight and the Force for the emotion she had feared to find. But his dark depths lacked the fierce fire that had sharpened them each time he had spoken of Saul's betrayal, and that simple fact, for now, reassured her. She stood from her chair as well, but hesitated in moving any closer to him._

_Her tender Force-touch had detected a longing within him that matched her own, but hurt and doubt still lingered in his heart as well. She would have to be cautious. "Carth," she said again, gently and quietly. "I think it's time we talked about me being Revan, don't you?"_

_His eyes dropped back to the floor and she saw him swallow. She could feel the wall come up around his heart again at the mention of the name Revan, but it was a much weaker wall than the one she had encountered in their last conversation on the subject. He nodded once. "If you insist."_

_Moriel hesitated. That wasn't exactly the answer she had been hoping for. And she suddenly realized she had spent so much time worrying about when – if ever – she was going to be able to talk to him again that she had spent no time whatsoever deciding just what it was she wanted to say in the first place. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, finally determining she should start where they last left off._

"_I didn't know, Carth," she blurted, and was annoyed at how desperate she sounded. But she couldn't help it. She needed him to understand. "I didn't know, I swear. And how do you think I felt about it? Realizing I'd been lied to this whole time, realizing I was never who I thought I always remembered being? Realizing the Jedi had – had programmed me with false memories… had used me as a tool – an instrument of their own selfish plans…." She shook her head and noticed the trace of a wry smile pass over Carth's face. But his eyes remained on the floor, and she continued. "I understand your reaction to what Saul told you, to what Malak told us. I understand, Carth. But… I hope this doesn't sound selfish, or callous, but… I thought…" She paused, taking a deep breath and once more trying to hold the tears at bay. Carth waited in silence, leaning back against the Galaxy Map console, arms crossed over his chest._

_His stoic countenance did nothing to help calm her roiling emotions, but somehow Moriel regained control and went on. "But I thought that given all we'd been through together, all that had happened between us… I thought you would have seen through the past to the present, to the truth –"_

"_And what truth is that?" Carth interrupted, looking up at her from hooded eyes. She felt the pulse of his anger like a slow, steady heartbeat against her senses._

"_That I am who I am," she answered readily, meeting his glare directly and hoping he could see she was ready to bare her soul. "Moriel, Revan… the name does not matter. I am the woman standing right here, right now_. _This is who I am, Carth. This is who I will be. And I fell in love with you a long time ago. I still love you. I still _need_ you. I needed you then, after what Malak said… it was so hard without you." A tear slipped down her cheek despite her efforts and she took a step toward him, then stopped herself. But he was looking at her now, his eyes searching her face, and she felt the heat of his anger fade. _

"_I just… I just need to know one thing," she said, and tried to swallow down the lump forming in her throat. Another tear escaped her lashes and she swiped at it angrily. She cleared her throat, squaring her shoulders and bracing herself for the worst, just in case… "I just need to know, Carth, if - if you – if you can still love me," she closed her eyes against his steady gaze, "or if you will hate me for the rest of my life?"_

_An eternity of silence seemed to follow her question, and she dared not open her eyes. She dared not even reach out with the Force to touch his thoughts. But as the seconds ticked by, she felt her stomach turn to lead, and her heart sank down to join it. He wasn't going to answer. He couldn't bring himself to see past her deeds as Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith. She would have to go on without him, without his love, his support, his encouragement –_

_She startled as his arms wrapped around her suddenly and pulled her forcefully against his chest, but then she melted into his embrace. He held her to him for a long while as she sobbed into his orange flight jacket, resting his chin on the top of her head and one hand gently stroking her hair. It was a gesture he often used when trying to soothe her worries. _

"_Moriel," he whispered finally, sighing into her hair. "I don't hate you. I could never hate you."_

_She sobbed even harder into his chest, burying her face in his jacket. A weight seemed to lift off her shoulders, pouring itself out in her tears. She'd never opened up this way before. Not for anyone on the crew, not even Carth. She had always tried to solve her own problems, tried to be the strong, unwavering, fearless leader they all expected her to be. And while a part of her was disgusted at her display of weakness, another part wanted nothing more than to stay in Carth's arms forever._

_She listened to the second part, letting the soldier hold her until her sobs finally ceased. She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Carth tightened his embrace around her. "I can't hate you, Moriel," he whispered. "I tried… I wanted to hold you responsible for all the things you've done. For my… for my wife, for Telos… for Dustil."_

_She winced at the mention of his son._

"_But I can't," Carth continued, holding her out at arm's length. She forced her eyes open, forced herself to look up at him. "I got the revenge I always wanted when Saul died," he said softly, "but it hasn't brought me the peace that I thought it would. All I can think of now is the promise I made to protect you from what's going to come. It's given me a reason to look past simple revenge." He glanced down to the floor, then lifted his eyes back to her face. "Despite whatever part of Revan is inside you, the… the darkness that must surely be there, it isn't who you are. That's why I can't hate you, why I don't want any more revenge."_

_He took her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes. "You don't have to be Revan, you can be so much more. Whatever the Jedi did to you, they gave you that chance. You have this huge destiny waiting for you, and I just fear that if you're alone it could swallow you whole. I mean, is there room in there for me? Will you let me help you?"_

_Moriel nodded weakly, pressing her face into Carth's warm hands. "I don't want to be alone," she whispered. "The… the darkness you mentioned…," she swallowed hard, her eyes shining again with tears. "I… I can feel it sometimes, Carth. It scares me…" She stepped close to him again, wrapping her arms around him. To her relief, he did not draw away at her small confession. She felt him take a deep breath. _

"_Whatever's happened up until this point, there's going to come a time very soon where you're going to have to make a choice," he said heavily. "And there won't be any turning back. I want you to make the right choice. I want to give you a reason to."_

_She looked up at him, remembering the sudden power she had felt at the Sand People's enclave on Tatooine, the dark rage she had embraced on Korriban, the cold touch of the Force she'd experienced in the shadowy depths of Kashyyyk. A flicker of fear lit in her heart. Such events had frightened her - and they had tempted her. She did not always have control… "But, Carth, what if I make the wrong choice?" she breathed._

_He took a step back, and his eyes blazed with determination. "Then I hope I can save you," he said. "From yourself. You gave me a future. I want to give you a future, too… with me."_

_A faint smile touched Moriel's lips. She had long considered that particular subject over the course of their relationship, but she had not had the courage, energy, or time to engage in such a conversation with him. They had spoken briefly – playfully - about it on Kashyyyk, about what would happen to them after the whole mystery of the Star Maps had been solved, but they had never seriously addressed the issue. Maybe now was finally the time to make some decisions._

"_I told you I loved you before," Carth said gruffly. "And I'm sorry it took me so long to say this to you again, but I still love you. And I'll stand by you through whatever lies ahead. I promise."_

The ache in Revan's heart lit into a fiery burn. She had trusted him. She had trusted him enough to open up to him in ways she had never dared with anyone else. She had made herself vulnerable for the first and only time in her life. And he had repaid that trust with suspicion and doubt, betrayal and hatred. Revan still vividly remembered the way he'd looked at her that day on Rakata Prime, when she'd caught him trying to send a warning to the Republic about how she had 'turned'. His eyes had been so cold... and when he'd pulled the trigger against her she had been so shocked, so outraged, so offended, she had wanted to kill him. She had _meant_ to kill him. But as she'd choked him into unconsciousness and felt his life essence begin to slip away, she had released her hold.

Because she still loved him.

Revan crossed her arms over her chest, such thoughts darkened her mood. She hated the part of her that still loved Carth Onasi, because it made Kreia right.

_No. The old woman is wrong_, she insisted to herself. _Carth is not my weakness. I have not let him sway me from my path, I have swayed him from his. I have brought him to the brink… one nudge more and he will fall. And once I have him, there will be no more distractions. He will be my strength, and together we will show them all what we are capable of…_

The thought gave Revan much comfort, and the burn of anger in her chest began to ebb. Converting Captain Carth Onasi to her cause would be her greatest personal achievement.

The communications terminal against the far left wall buzzed with static, and then a young officer's voice came through, "Lieutenant Turrk here, my Lord," the man said briskly. "I apologize for disturbing you, but the perimeter sensors have just picked up a small freighter entering our space –"

"You know what to do, Lieutenant," Revan commented blandly. "Why are you contacting me about it?"

"The freighter is sending a hail, my Lord," the Lieutenant explained. "I thought you might want to hear it…?"

Revan sighed heavily. "Very well, patch it through."

"As you wish, my Lord."

There was another short burst of static, and then a very familiar voice echoed through the cavernous extent of the observation room: "I repeat, this is Carth Onasi of the freighter _Iridonian Star_, requesting permission to dock. Do not fire; I come only to speak with Revan. I am not acting on behalf of the Republic, do not fire. Hailing Star Forge control, this is Carth Onasi of the freighter _Iridonian Star_, requesting permission to dock, I repeat, _do not fire_…"

Revan turned to face the terminal, one eyebrow lifting in surprise. She had not expected him so soon. But as she listened to Carth recite the hail again, a slow smile crawled across her face. There was fear in his voice, and doubt. She had brought him to the brink….

The Dark Lord went down to the terminal with a swish of her cloak and keyed it back to Lieutenant Turrk. "Lieutenant," she ordered, "guide the freighter in and allow it to dock. Carth Onasi will be our guest; he is not to be harmed. I will send Bastila down to meet him."

"Yes, my Lord. It will be done."

Revan switched frequencies. "HK?"

The droid was quick to answer. "Acknowledgement: Yes, Master? Is there someone you need killed?"

"Not today, my friend," she said, and ignored his grunt of disappointment. "Inform our honored visitor that his ship has just come in, and that he will shortly be free to leave."

"Protest: But Master, I had hoped you wished the horned meatbag to die a horribly slow and painful death here in your most sophisticated torture chamber…"

"No, HK. I think his time with you has shown him his mistake. I am confident he will not repeat it."

"Reluctant Concession: Very well, Master. As you wish. Statement: However, I am afraid the pain of his last torture session has rendered him unconscious. He will not reawaken for some time."

Revan's smile widened. "You have done well, HK. Just tell him when he regains consciousness, then."

"Acknowledgement: Yes, Master."

Revan cut the transmission, then ascended the stairs to the window once more. She stood looking out at the stars for a long moment more, feeling her anticipation build. Carth had come to her just as she'd planned. Just as she'd wanted. Like a krek beetle to the Bright Lands. Her year of careful preparation and manipulation was coming to a head, and she was ever so anxious to hear what he had come all this way to say.

"_I am not acting on behalf of the Republic…"_

The smile touched her lips again. She wondered if that was true. If it was, her plan had worked even better than she ever could have hoped. If it wasn't, well…

_Just one nudge more_, she thought.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	28. Deliberations

**Author's Note:** I should take this time to remind readers that this entire story is based off of a game glitch (of my accidental doing, I admit) wherein Carth does NOT appear on the Star Forge after a Dark-Sided female Revan initially takes it over. Therefore, this fic can pretty much be considered AU, I suppose, as it will tend to stray from the basic game canon, especially from here on out. But then, how could it _not_ stray from canon when the whole idea of it came from a game glitch that was never supposed to happen in the first place? Hee hee. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy, and thanks ever so much for reading! Also, many thanks, as always, to my great beta Rian Sage!

* * *

**Deliberations**

The _Iridonian Star_ eased down onto its landing struts in the docking bay designated number fifty-four. Carth ran a brief post-flight check of the frieghter's systems, then shut down the engines. He sat for awhile in the pilot's seat, staring out the viewport at the dull gray of the docking bay walls, and clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

_This was a very, very bad idea._

One hand dropped to rest on his blaster. _Kill her. Just get it over with. Just walk up to her and shoot her. Nice and simple. _But his heart quailed at the thought; the memory of her blood on his hands was still vivid in his mind. _Suns damn it!_ He ran his hands over his face. _I can't do this…._

The internal docking bay doors slid open, interrupting Carth's internal debate. He stood from the pilot's chair at the sight of the figure that came striding confidently through the doorway: Bastila Shan.

She was alone and dressed in dark robes, but her lightsaber still dangled in clear view from her belt. The woman stopped in front of the freighter, looking up at the soldier through the viewport, and crossed her arms. Carth swallowed hard. It was too late for second thoughts. He had committed himself to this course of action, and he would have to accept the consequences – and try his damnedest to be sure those consequences didn't include the fall of the Galactic Republic. He took a deep breath in an attempt to quell the nervous rolling of his stomach, then gave Bastila a curt nod and turned to disembark the _Star_.

But he paused next to the footlocker of supplies Intelligence had given him; he had almost forgotten about it. Carth unlocked the rectangular container and threw open the lid, perusing the contents within. The modified combat suit, the various grenades, the datapad containing a map of the Star Forge... He picked up the datapad and hooked it to his belt, tossing a glance over his shoulder to where Bastila waited. Intelligence hadn't counted on him having an escort. Carth hadn't counted on it, either. Regardless, he wanted the map.

He shut the lid on the rest of the stuff, knowing it would look far too suspicious to Bastila or Revan if he took it. After all, he had claimed he came only to talk. And he didn't want them getting paranoid, lest they discover the triply-encrypted message he had sent to Intelligence upon his exit from hyperspace. After all, he had also claimed he was not acting on behalf of the Republic. A statement that was not entirely true, and yet not entirely false. Still, Carth had a good idea Revan would not take kindly to him sending such a transmission if she were to discover it. And Carth wanted her to trust him, to believe him. He needed her to trust him. His plan depended on it.

Feeling no more assured that he wasn't walking into a giant trap, Carth Onasi continued to the _Iridonian Star_'s boarding ramp and lowered it, then descended with heavy steps. He rounded the ship to meet Bastila; the woman now stood with her hands clasped behind her back, and her blue eyes regarded him coldly.

"Captain," she acknowledged him with a barely perceptible nod.

"Bastila." He returned her gesture with a miniscule nod of his own.

Her gaze swept up and down his person briefly. "Master Revan has insisted you are to keep your weapons," Bastila stated, and her tone made it clear she adamantly disagreed with such an order. "But do not think for a moment you will get the chance to use them. If you even so much as twitch your trigger finger in Master Revan's presence, I will kill you where you stand."

Carth lifted one eyebrow. "On your Master's orders only though, I assume?"

Bastila's eyes narrowed, but she otherwise ignored his jibe. "Your ship will be searched," she continued icily. "And the logs and navi-computer files downloaded and studied. Anything _interesting_ we might find will be reported directly to Master Revan."

Carth felt his heartbeat quicken, but then urged himself to relax. His transmission had purposefully been hidden from the communication records, and neither the footlocker nor the navi-computer would prove anything contradictory to what he'd said in his hail. The supplies in the footlocker could be passed off as precautions – precautions he had elected not to use. He had nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about except the fact that if he failed to convince Revan to rejoin the Republic, he would have to kill her. He _had _to.

"I'm here to speak with Revan," he said, his voice sounding much more confident than he felt. "That's all. And the sooner the better."

Bastila arched her eyebrows. "Yes, I know," she said. "My Master has been expecting you for quite some time now. I never thought you would actually come. But she always knew you would." The woman shook her head dismissively. "Unfortunately, Master Revan is otherwise occupied at the moment. You'll have to wait. I will take you to your temporary quarters."

Carth forced himself to nod in consent, although inwardly his mind began to race once more. How long would he have to wait? He had told Aayla and her cohorts to wait only 24 hours – he had no idea what they might attempt, if anything, after that. And where would Bastila have him wait? Or was it all an act? Was he walking further into one of Revan's manipulations? Into some kind of trap?

_For stars' sake, get a grip!_

He inhaled deeply and released the breath slowly, subtly, straightening his shoulders as he followed Bastila from the docking bay. He marveled at how easily she turned her back on him; the idea of clubbing her into unconsciousness to continue his plan on his own entered his head, then swiftly left again. Better to keep up appearances of being on a peaceful visit. He didn't want to risk the chance of being killed by a vengeful Sith before he'd gotten the chance to confront Revan.

And so Carth Onasi allowed himself to be led through the bowels of the Star Forge to the crew quarters, where Bastila showed him to a room and informed him he would be summoned as soon as Revan was available. With that, the woman gave Carth one last skeptical glance before shaking her head again and closing the door on him.

The soldier stood in the silence alone, at a loss.

* * *

Two hours had passed since Bastila had left him. Carth stood in front of the room's small window, looking out at the frightening number of starships that filled the space around the Star Forge, and thought Revan must have assigned him these quarters on purpose. She had never been one to shy away from making a point.

The sight of the Infinite Fleet made a very good point. One that Carth found to be thoroughly depressing. _The Republic can't beat this. We don't have the resources, the manpower…. _He frowned at the thought, suddenly curious as to where Revan found the number of people needed to crew such a massive armada of ships. Perhaps from her recently conquered planets. Or perhaps most of her fleet ran on skeleton crews.

The idea was an interesting one, and for a moment Carth thought he might have found the crack in Revan's interminable strategy of domination. Upon further contemplation, however, he realized demoralizing or converting the crews would take a great amount of time and effort, especially with Bastila's battle meditation now being on the Dark Lord's side. And time was something the Republic forces did not have. Revan's fleet had already claimed territory as far as the Mid-Rim, and she continued to push Coreward with relentless determination.

The only other option, then, was one Carth hoped the Republic would never revert to. Although the "removal" of planetary populations loyal to Revan would considerably lessen her potential pool of military recruits, the thought of murder on such a massive scale made Carth's insides churn. It reminded him too much of the way the Mandalorian Wars had been fought, of how they had been won… of how both Telos and Taris had been destroyed.

Yet, if that turned out to be the only way to stop her…

_The Republic's hands aren't any cleaner than the Mandalorians'… or Malak's, or Revan's. _Carth blinked as the words of the Dustil apparition he'd seen in the Korriban tomb returned to him, and his body grew hot with shame.

_No. I won't make him right. The Republic is better than that. There must be another way to stop her._

He turned away from the window and closed his eyes._ You already know how to stop her_, a small voice whispered in his head, and a heavy sadness settled in Carth's heart like a stone. _Destroy her. She is the only one strong enough to operate the Star Forge. Without her, the Infinite Fleet will cease to be infinite. The Star Forge can be destroyed, her troops left leaderless and disorganized. Her growing empire will crumble, and the Republic can take back the galaxy._

Carth's fingers rose to massage his temples. _So many lives are at stake. Kill her, and trade one life for millions. _

The thought enraged him. Not only for its painful truth, but because of his reluctance to accept that truth. Carth opened his eyes, snatching up the nearby night table and hurling it across the room. It struck the opposite wall and then crashed through the glass table beneath it. The soldier ignored the noise and the mess, stalking the length of the room angrily.

_All you wanted for the past year was to kill her_, he screamed at himself. _Why can't you do it? How can you possibly consider risking the fate of galaxy just for the chance to save her? Look out that window! Look at what she has to fight with! If you waste this opportunity by trying to show her the light and you fail, you will have doomed the galaxy to an era of a Dark Lord's tyranny. It will be _your_ fault. Your fault!_

Carth went back to the window, his heart aching with uncertainty, his head throbbing with arguments. _But I promised her_, he thought desperately. _I promised Moriel… I would protect her, stay with her… save her from herself…._

He shook his head, wishing she would just summon him so he could get it all over with, one way or another. He didn't want any more time to agonize over what he would do when he finally met her face to face again. He just wanted it to happen. He couldn't stand the indecision any longer.

The room's door hissed open and Carth spun to face it, his blaster already drawn and ready. But the weapon immediately jerked out of his hand and flew to the grip of the person standing in the doorway. Carth straightened, his fists clenched at his sides, and glared defiantly at his unexpected visitor.

"Now, now," the old woman scolded. "No need for that, Captain. I came only to talk, not to do battle." She placed his blaster gently on the decorative table by the door.

"Who the flaming hell are you?" Carth demanded. He was in no mood for further delays or exploitation.

The woman smiled and stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her. She folded her gnarled hands inside the sleeves of her black robe, and though her hood had been pulled far over her head, Carth caught a glimpse of filmy, white eyes. "Who I am does not matter," she said softly, and her seemingly sightless gaze lifted to regard him. "What I am about to say, however, matters a great deal. Sit down."

The old woman obviously had the Force; Carth suspected she was one of Revan's Dark Jedi. But as such, he wasn't interested in the least about anything she had to say. He wished fleetingly he had brought along some of those poison grenades Intelligence had provided.

"Foolish of you, Captain," she croaked suddenly, startling Carth from his thoughts. "Did you learn nothing of the Jedi from your time with Revan? A poison grenade would be useless against one such as me. I could heal myself with the Force within seconds, and then where would that leave you? Face to face with a very unhappy Sith. Now sit down."

Carth blinked, his mouth hanging open in shock. He had said nothing aloud….

"Do not look so surprised, Carth Onasi. You are as easy to read as an unencrypted datapad. Now _sit_."

She flicked one finger and Carth stumbled backwards into the edge of the lone chair. He sat down hard, but immediately stood again, his surprise over her knowledge of the poison grenades vanishing in a fire of anger. "If you think you can come in here and-"

She shoved him back down into the chair with the Force. "Be silent and listen," she snapped. Carth tried to protest again, but his body was locked in place. He could neither move nor speak, and he knew immediately she had placed him in a stasis-field. He knew the effects of one well; he would never forget the last time he'd been held in one. His thoughts had been similarly confused on that day, also.

But his mind was jarred back to the present when the woman spoke again; in his peripheral vision he saw her move lazily toward the window. "There is something you must know," she said simply. "Perhaps it will not be such an easy thing to understand, given your soldier's mind, your misconstrued notions of honor, nobility, righteousness…" She turned to face the motionless Carth, her robes swirling about her ankles. "There is something out there, Carth Onasi," she said in an ominous tone. "Something out there in the far reaches of the Unknown Regions. Something dark. Something evil. Something very powerful. More powerful than your Republic… more powerful than Revan, even with this space station at her disposal."

Carth glared as best he could as the old woman moved into his full view.

"Revan knows this," the woman stated. "She has been planning for it nearly since the beginning of her reign as Dark Lord. All of her tactics up until this point have been constructed with the knowledge that this _something_ is out there, and will eventually make itself known to us. Revan intends to ensure the galaxy is ready for it, and strong enough to endure it."

Had Carth been able to move, he would have scoffed. But apparently outward communication was not necessary for this Dark Jedi to understand him, because a slight smile creased her already wrinkled face.

"Do not be so quick to dismiss my words, Captain," she warned. "The thing that lurks beyond the borders of known space is the Sith. The _true _Sith. You and your Republic have seen nothing the likes of what they are capable of. They will come and they will destroy. Obliterate. Demolish. Your Republic will be powerless to stop them." Her smile grew, but it held a sick kind of humor, and Carth felt his skin prickle beneath her sightless gaze. "Would you have that on your conscience, Captain?" she asked quietly, coldly. "The destruction of entire civilizations, the murder of billions of innocent lives?"

_What in the flaming hell is she talking about? She must be insane…_

"No," the woman said sharply, taking a step forward so that her filmy eyes bored directly into Carth's face. The unease roiling in the pit of his stomach intensified at her expression, and her uncanny ability to read his thoughts thoroughly unnerved him. "This is most certainly not insanity, Carth Onasi," she hissed. "It is the truth. As much as your Fleet-programmed, narrow mind wants to deny it, you know Revan's strategy for restructuring the Republic will strengthen it considerably."

_Restructuring the Republic?_ Carth thought incredulously, struggling violently against the hold of the stasis-field, but in vain. _She doesn't want a Republic, she wants an _Empire_! She wants to conquer, control – _

"And in doing so she will stabilize the galaxy," the woman interjected, and this time Carth could feel the pressure of her presence in his head. He tried to push her out, resist the increasing frequency of her probes, but it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He ground his teeth in frustration, hating his helpless condition.

"You have come here to destroy Revan, have you not?" the Dark Jedi asked bluntly.

Carth glared up at her, his heart pounding ruthlessly against his ribs, but he found he had no answer to that question. Instead the image of Revan's limp form draped in his lap burned at the front of his mind, and if he had not been frozen in place, Carth would have squeezed his eyes shut against it.

The old woman standing in front of him smiled again in the same wicked way. "How interesting," she whispered, and he knew she could sense what he saw in his mind's eye – he felt her dig deeper, reaching into his memories with the Force, dragging out everything he had tried to hide from her, everything he had tried to hide from himself and more…

_The _Endar Spire_, being introduced to Moriel Ithilio, the scout whose knowledge of the outer spacelanes would be invaluable to their current mission… the attack… guiding Moriel to the escape pod… the crash on Taris… her fevered dreams…_

Carth fought the Dark Jedi's manipulations with great effort, but the more he resisted, the deeper she burrowed, until her smothering presence nearly overwhelmed his consciousness. Eventually he only vaguely registered his physical body; the pain in his head was the single remaining thing that kept him anchored to reality. The rest of him was lost in the past, however reluctantly, helpless to prevent the old woman from viewing the last year and seven months of his life like nothing more than a rented holovid.

_Moriel's training on Dantooine, finding Bastila's mother on Tatooine, the Sand People's Enclave… being worried for Moriel's safely… so worried… finding Dustil on Korriban, learning of Dustil's death… Kashyyyk and the Shadow Beast… the three day celebration… getting drunk, very drunk… discovering she was Revan, their arguments, their reconciliation… Manaan, the Progenitor, Moriel on trial… he wouldn't let them execute her, no matter the outcome, no matter who she had once been…_

"Yes," the old woman said slowly, but to Carth her voice came from somewhere distant. He still fought her valiantly, but he was losing the battle, his efforts becoming weaker and weaker as she consumed more and more of his memories.

_Reaching Rakata Prime, the crash, meeting the Rakata… the ritual… learning of the Star Forge… Moriel… Revan… she betrayed him, she betrayed the Republic… she murdered them, all of them… blood in the sand…_

The Dark Jedi's presence suddenly withdrew, leaving Carth gasping for breath, his head pulsing now with blessed emptiness. Tears blurred his vision, but the stasis-field prevented him from blinking them away. He swallowed hard, struggling to regain his composure, but the whole incident of having his mind so violated left him feeling dizzy and sick. His body burned with the desire to leap off the chair and stab one of the broken table's glass shards into the old woman's heart.

She smirked at him knowingly. "This is the bitter irony of your existence, Captain," she sneered, but amusement laced her tone. "You hate Revan because you love her. And yet you love her because you hate her. A dilemma, to be sure. But one that leaves you with a choice." She paused, considering. "Or perhaps, with no choice at all," she amended. The smile touched her lips again. "You see, Captain, Revan is the galaxy's greatest hope against the threat brewing in the Unknown Regions. I know this. Revan knows this. I believe even Bastila realizes this fact to a certain extent. But your Republic and its pathetic excuse for the Jedi Order don't even know such a threat exists at all. If you should choose to exact the revenge that boils still in the dark depths of your soul, you will doom this galaxy to oblivion. And isn't that the fear that festers in your heart so persistently?" She gestured to him, then toward the window. "That Captain Carth Onasi alone, soldier of the Republic, might be responsible for the downfall of the very government he swore loyalty to so many years ago? That his actions here – or his failures – might doom all the citizens of this fair galaxy to decades of cruel, tyrannical rule?"

The old woman threw back her hood, her atrophied gaze dropping to meet his hard stare directly. "If Revan is destroyed," she said evenly, "there will be no one left with a chance to stand against the Sith. Your fears will come true, a hundred times worse than you can imagine. So I ask you again, Captain: Could you stand to live with the knowledge that the destruction of entire civilizations, the murder of billions of innocent lives, would be of your doing?"

Carth could not answer. The stasis-field prevented a physical answer, and the true implication of what the Dark Jedi had just said sufficiently drowned any sort of mental reply. The soldier was temporarily lost in the horror of her presented situation.

The woman replaced her hood, wandering back to the window. "So you see, Captain," she continued quietly, "you have many things to consider before you make your final decision about the fate of this galaxy. Ultimately, however, there is only one real question you must answer." She looked over at him and smiled cruelly. "Would you rather be governed by Revan, or ruled by the Sith?"

Carth glared furiously at her, but her Force-hold still rendered him mute.

"I will leave you to your deliberations," she said lightly, and crossed the room to the door. She paused there briefly, turning to look back at Carth with a grin that made his spine tingle. "Best of luck, Captain," she quipped, and then she was gone.

He immediately tried to go after her, but the stasis-field held him at bay for a good minute longer after she had left. When it finally released him, Carth lunged out of the chair and snatched up his blaster, darting out into the hallway and looking around frantically for some sign of where the Dark Jedi might have gone. But the corridor was empty. The old woman had vanished somewhere into the depths of the Star Forge, and Carth knew he wasn't going to find her now.

The soldier scowled, pacing the hall in front of his door. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think… _Lies, all lies. Revan must have sent her… more manipulations… _His anger boiled to the surface again and Carth pulled the datapad from his belt. Revan had been leading him around for long enough; it was time he took control of the situation and got some answers, whether she was ready for him or not.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	29. Over the Threshold

**A/N:** Thanks again to Rian Sage for the excellent beta! Sorry this chapter took so long to post - I had some troubles writing it, but I think it turned out okay! Thanks for reading!

* * *

**Over the Threshold**

The more Carth saw of the Star Forge, the more concerned he became. There were a great deal of officers aboard the station - many more than the soldier had counted on - and despite his best efforts to remain unseen, he'd been discovered a mere twenty minutes after starting his explorations. What disturbed him even more than the amount of people Revan had recruited to man her orbital shipyard, however, was the fact no one seemed to spare him a second glance. Even the young officer Carth had nearly collided with while boarding the elevator had said nothing about Carth's presence on the Star Forge, or about the blaster the Republic soldier had immediately pointed at his nose. Instead the man had straightened, saluted, and gone on about his business, leaving Carth to stare after him in shocked confusion.

The Captain had come up with only one logical explanation: Revan must have announced his arrival somehow, and ordered her subordinates to leave him alone. He thought that was a good sign, but then he had learned over the past few years that no situation was exactly as it seemed if Revan was involved. He would have to stay alert.

He jogged down another long but mostly empty corridor on the Forge's second level, still holding his blaster in his right hand and glancing down to the datapad in his left every now and then. His goal appeared to be on the third level, where a large empty rectangle had been labeled "Command Center". Revan would be there. He knew that as surely as he'd known she'd be waiting for him on the Star Forge. Carth had almost reached the next elevator up when a gruff, echoing cry stopped him in his tracks. He pressed his back against the wall, raising his weapon and frantically searching the hall in both directions. It was empty.

He tried to regulate his breathing, angry at himself for being so jumpy. But then the scream came again, and this time Carth pinpointed its source - a closed door several meters down. He moved toward it quickly, paused outside of it, and listened. Many muffled technical sounds came through the durasteel barrier, but no more screams. Carth hooked the datapad to his belt and tried the door. To his surprise it slid open easily; he gripped his blaster in both hands, stepped inside, and once again found himself staring in disbelief.

The room was clearly a torture chamber of some kind, but the various cruel-looking instruments, restraint tables, and hovering droids were not what drew Carth's eye. He stared instead at the lone occupant of the security cage humming against the far wall. The Zabrak slumped against the rear support beam, his face mostly obscured, but Carth would have recognized the black and yellow tattoos anywhere.

Veeren Siege lifted his head as the soldier slowly approached the cage, and despite his obvious condition, the bounty hunter smiled. "Well, well," he croaked. "If it isn't Captain Carth Onasi. Your story just keeps getting more and more interesting, doesn't it?"

"So does yours, apparently," Carth muttered.

"How was your meeting with Intelligence?" the bounty hunter asked, shifting against the support beam with a wince.

Carth frowned at the question, and Siege's smile widened.

"Yes, Darth Revan told me all about that unfortunate incident. That's why I'm here, you know. Seems I wasn't as successful at losing that shadow of ours as I had thought. I guess I really pissed her off."

"I guess you did." Carth glanced around the room briefly. The droids appeared to be on standby; the security cage on an automated program controlled by a nearby computer terminal.

"She also told me my ship had arrived," Siege continued, bringing the soldier back from his observations. "Any chance you were the one flying it?"

"Yah," Carth answered shortly, moving over to the computer. "That's right."

The bounty hunter grunted. "Then I suppose you won't be leaving this station."

Carth stopped reading over the cage's protocols and turned to face the Zabrak. "It looks to me more like _you _won't be the one leaving."

Siege smiled again, his bright eyes smirking. "Oh no, Captain," he countered smoothly. "I _am_ leaving. Darth Revan has already assured me of that. And I'll be taking my ship. Which will leave you without a ride." He shook his horned head in mock pity. "I guess Darth Revan plays for keeps."

Carth held the Zabrak's stare evenly, but felt his chest tighten at the thought of being stranded. Despite his efforts to steel himself against the possibility of failure in this mission, the possibility of an untimely and unpleasant death, a large part of him still believed he would succeed - or at least have a chance for escape if things went badly. The _Iridonian Star _was his best chance for that escape, should he need it. But if Siege took the ship... Carth swallowed hard.

"If Revan is really going to let you go," the soldier said quietly, calmly, "then why did she program the security cage for three more torture sessions?"

The bounty hunter shrugged weakly. "Call it a going-away present. It's her style. She's had it set that way ever since I first got here. The cursed thing goes off every fifteen minutes, for two minutes at a time. Unless her droid is in here..."

Carth caught Siege's nearly imperceptible shudder at the mention of HK-47 and stepped closer to the cage, glaring down to where the bounty hunter still sat. "You deserve it," he growled, his voice low and ominous. "You deserve more than this for what you've done."

The Zabrak met Carth's glare. "It's just business, soldier," he said conversationally. "Just a way of getting things done. You fought in the Wars, you remember. Sometimes business is bloody."

"Business?" Carth repeated incredulously.

"Yah. Business."

The soldier's glare narrowed and he moved quickly back to the computer terminal, pulling his only remaining spike from a pouch on his belt. He holstered his blaster, using both hands to type in a series of commands on the console. "Well then you can tell yourself this is just business, too." He punched the last button with emphasis, and the security cage immediately initiated its now-modified torture program. Rippling waves of energy coursed over its shimmering outer barrier and sent snaking tendrils inward to crawl hungrily over Veeren Siege's body.

The bounty hunter screamed as the energy hit him; he collapsed to the floor, writhing and thrashing. Carth watched the Zabrak squirm for a few long moments, then manually shut off the program. Siege lay very still save for his ragged breathing, his skin still steaming.

"Intelligence wasn't going to let me kill you," Carth said gruffly into the ringing silence. "They want you for questioning. They want you to stand trial. But they didn't see what you did to those people in Fleet Headquarters."

Despite the obvious pain it caused, Siege laughed. "Listen to you, Captain Onasi," he coughed. "Shame, shame. Where's that nobility of yours now, eh? Just follow the rules when it suits you... how becoming of an officer." The bounty hunter rolled laboriously onto his hands and knees, then pushed himself into a sitting position again. "Maybe I know why you're here now. You got a grudge against Darth Revan? You got a score to settle with her?"

Carth said nothing, but his finger hovered over the button that would initiate the torture program once more.

"But if you were here to kill her, I can't imagine she'd let you run around free. Unless, of course, she knew you weren't a real threat. She must want you here for some reason. You must have something to offer her, something she wants. A Captain of the Republic Navy and a Dark Lord of the Sith... I'd love to know the end of that story."

"I'm sure you would," Carth replied coolly. "Too bad you won't get the chance." He hit the button and the blasts of energy came again, pulsing into the Zabrak with fierce intensity. The bounty hunter's screams of agony filled the chamber, and Carth turned away from the security cage and walked out the door without looking back. The door shut behind him, but Veeren Siege's screams followed the soldier all the way into the elevator.

* * *

A ripple of feeling touched Revan through the Force, interrupting her study of the tactical readouts scrolling across the computer terminal's screen. She looked up from the statistics and frowned, trying to focus in on the disturbance. It was vaguely familiar, but not immediately recognizable.

"What is it?" Kreia asked from across the room, noticing that Revan's attention had wandered.

Revan waved a hand dismissively, but then knew what she felt. Agony, pain, suffering... flowing freely from the bounty hunter Veeren Siege. She checked her chrono and her frown deepened. It wasn't yet time for another of his torture sessions. And the waves he currently sent through the Force were far more powerful than anything _her_ torture methods would cause him to make. She picked up her personal comlink and keyed in HK-47.

The droid answered promptly. "Acknowledgement: I am here, Master. Is there someone you need tortured or maimed?"

Revan ignored his question. "HK, are you with the bounty hunter right now?"

"Answer: Negative, Master. I am presently in one of the laboratories assisting one of your lesser meatbag underlings in analyzing a most curious anomaly found in the -"

Revan interrupted the droid before he could launch into one of his passionate narratives. "Well could you go to the cellblock then and be sure there's not a malfunction with his security cage?"

"Puzzled Query: A malfunction? Appeasement: I assure you, Master, that is impossible. I programmed the horned meatbag's cage myself, and as you know -"

"Just do it, HK."

"Concession: As you wish, Master. I am on my way now. HK-47 out."

The com clicked off and Revan clipped it back to her belt. HK would take care of things. He knew Veeren Siege was to be allowed to leave after the remainder of his scheduled torture sessions were carried out. If the security cage had malfunctioned in some way, the droid would set it right again. And if something else had caused the bounty hunter to send out such a vortex of agony... HK would neutralize it. Either way, the Zabrak no longer concerned her, and she attempted to block him out of her mind. But no sooner had she accomplished that feat than something else brushed against her senses.

This was dark and shifting, with many emotions coming and going, colliding and conflicting. Beneath it all, however, somewhere deep and vague, was a presence she knew better than all others. His impression in the Force had been just as unstable the last time she had been near him, on Korriban. But now he headed for the Command Center...

She stiffened at the realization, anxiety unexpectedly blooming in her chest.

"Revan?" Kreia asked again, jolting the Dark Lord back from her thoughts.

Revan turned toward the old woman absently. "You're dismissed," she said.

Kreia blinked her sightless eyes. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're dismissed."

"I thought you said you wanted my input for these negotiations?"

Revan moved slowly over to the observation window. "I do." She thought for a second, then said, "In fact, I want you to start them. The Fleet is already in position. My Admirals know what to do if our negotiations should break down. But I don't think the Umbaran council will be that difficult to convince. Their kind desire power and influence above all... simply offer them the opportunity to obtain such things." The Dark Lord looked to her former Master. "Don't get too confident, however," she warned the ex-Jedi. "They are as manipulative as you are. Use caution."

Kreia clasped her hands behind her back. "And may I ask why the Dark Lord herself will be unavailable to conduct these negotiations?"

"I have another matter I must attend to," Revan answered nonchalantly. "It should not take me long to resolve. I will monitor your progress with the Umbarans remotely in the meantime."

Kreia's gaze narrowed. "This has to do with _him_, doesn't it?"

Revan sighed, but chose not to argue her point again. "The Umbarans will be expecting our contact soon," she stated flatly.

"And where is Bastila?" Kreia asked. "I thought she was supposed to bring him to you."

"Bastila is occupied with her assignment, as you should be," Revan said, her tone now edged. Carth drew closer with every second she wasted on this pointless conversation.

"I see," the former Jedi said dryly. "Then she will be disappointed to discover the meeting between you and Captain Onasi took place without her. She wanted to stand with you... she does not trust him, you know."

Revan finally turned to contront the other woman. "Bastila's opinion of him - and yours - is irrelevant," she snapped. "I am perfectly capable of defending myself, should it prove necessary."

Kreia crossed her arms, cocking her head to one side. "I am quite sure you _are_ capable of defending yourself," the old woman quipped, "the question is... _will _you?"

"The Umbarans are waiting," Revan growled.

"Very well," Kreia relented at last. "I will begin the negotiations in the lower briefing room. But remember what I told you before. He will use your feelings against you... be wary."

Revan turned her back on her old Master, looking out to the stars, and Kreia took the hint. The sound of the Command Center's door opening and closing seemed loud in the sudden silence. The Dark Lord took a deep breath, attempting to center herself. She had hoped Carth would wait to seek her out until after she'd gotten through this first round of talks with the Umbarans. But then, he had never been one to wait, believing action was the answer to all situations.

She reached out cautiously with the Force again, searching for his presence. She found him easily enough; his emotions were still wildly jumbled. She wondered how Kreia thought the man could be capable of any sort of persuasion in his current state of mind.

_"But there are weapons other than blasters and lightsabers in this world, and those are what he will use against you when the end comes. Those will be your failing."_

Revan had been planning this moment for a very long time. And she would not fail. She straightened her shoulders, faced the Command Center's doors, and waited.

* * *

_I don't want any more revenge..._

The thought echoed through Carth's head as the elevator carried him up to the third level of the Star Forge. He had told Moriel that once, after he had killed Saul, after he had come to terms with what Saul had revealed in that last gasping breath. And it had been true. Then.

But leaving Siege to die a slow and painful death in the security cage had been extremely satisfying. He had done it without thinking, reacting from the familiar old burn of anger and grief that flamed in his chest. It had been the same when he'd blasted a hole through Saul's chest, when he'd pulled the trigger to put a bolt through Revan's head a year ago.

_... it hasn't brought me the peace that I thought it would. All I can think of now is the promise I made to protect you from what's going to come... _

Carth readied himself as the elevator slowed, scowling at the memory of his words. He hadn't felt at peace for years, regardless of his actions. _No... that's not true_, he countered himself almost immediately. _There was Kashyyyk... _His heart squeezed at the memory. Those had been a precious few days of rest, a precious few days when he and Moriel had managed to find enough excuses to spend nearly two whole, uninterrupted days together. He had tried not to take those days for granted, tried to appreciate them only for what they were, without dwelling on the past or worrying about what was to come in the future. He had simply enjoyed living in the present, with Moriel.

_She's the only one who ever made me feel that way. Ever since Telos... she was the only one..._

The elevator doors hissed open, revealing another long, dark corridor. _Maybe this is my fault. _The thought came suddenly, stopping Carth just before he stepped off the elevator. _If I had reacted differently to Saul's news... if I had been more supportive when she first found out herself... if I would have talked to her about it afterwards, when she wanted me to, instead of letting myself get angry over it... if I would have shown her how much I loved her, how much I believed in her, regardless of her past..._

_"I still love you," _she had told him, even after he blatantly avoided her for two long weeks. "_I still _need_ you. I needed you then, after what Malak said… it was so hard without you."_

"_Come back with me, Carth. I can't do it alone; I need your help."_

He staggered back against the wall of the elevator. _I should have been there for her. Maybe then she would have listened to me... maybe she would have destroyed the Star Forge instead of using it..._

"Are you lost, Captain?"

Carth jumped, jolting from his thoughts and directing his blaster at the shadowy form emerging from the gloom of the corridor. As the person drew nearer he recognized the hooded shape of the old woman who had come into his quarters and violated his mind. He tightened his grip on his blaster. "No," he answered gruffly. "Not lost. I've come to talk to Revan."

The Dark Jedi stopped just in front of his blaster's muzzle. "Well then," she whispered, "don't let me stop you. She's waiting for you, in the Command Center."

"I know."

The woman said nothing to his answer, nor did she move from the middle of the corridor. Carth stepped off the elevator, edging around her, keeping her head in his blaster's sight. She turned with him, her unwavering stare boring into him. _But I will be watching you_, her voice resounded in his head, and he immediately tried to push her out. _I will be watching you from in here, and if I discover you have any intention of harming Revan, I will make things very unpleasant for you, indeed._

As if to illustrate her point, an abrupt, spiking pain raced through Carth's skull and his vision blacked. He dropped to his hands and knees, feeling sick, but the pain vanished as quickly as it had come, and he sprang back to his feet, ready to retaliate. The woman had already gone, however; the elevator doors slid closed just before Carth got off a shot. He swore, vowing that the next time he saw that old woman, she wouldn't live long enough to get into his head.

He resumed his walk toward the Command Center. _"I will be watching you," _the Dark Jedi had said, but her presence no longer hovered in his mind. Was it possible she could still sense his thoughts in some way? Or was it simply an empty threat, a weak attempt at dissuading him from murdering her Master?

_I won't be murdering her_, he told himself firmly. _But if you have to... _Carth cut off that train of thought. He had made his decision. He knew what he was going to do either way, and he would stick to that plan no matter what. It was the only way. The only way to peace... for him, for Revan, for the galaxy.

He came to the door that marked the only entrance to the Command Center and shut off the datapad with the map, placing it back on his belt. He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door controls, feeling strangely, suddenly numb. The deep, rhythmic throbbing of the Star Forge's ancient machinery pulsed beneath his boots, echoing the pounding of his own heart as he finally holstered his blaster and reached out for the door's controls.

But his fingers stopped short of the button, a million doubts plaguing him all at once. Carth took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly. _No turning back now. This is what you've been waiting for... this is what you've wanted all along, ever since the Rakatan beach... _He swallowed hard. _This is the only way._

He punched the button and the door slid open. Without allowing himself another thought, Carth Onasi stepped over the threshold.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	30. To Save The Galaxy

**Author's Note:** Soooo much thanks to my beta Rian Sage, her suggestions and sharp eye made this chapter way, way better than it was originally! Also, I must claim some artistic liscense as to the naming of design and structure elements of the Star Forge in this chapter. I tried to make it all reasonable, so I hope I succeeded. And hope you enjoy!

* * *

**To Save The Galaxy**

Aayla stood on the bridge of the _Hammer_, the cruiser Intelligence had commissioned her for this trip. She stared out at the rocky, cratered surface of the moon they hid behind, and worried that she had made a very large mistake. She glanced at the bridge's chronometer for the millionth time and sighed as she saw it had only been two minutes since she'd last checked. But it had been three hours since they'd received Carth's encrypted message.

The soldier had arrived at the Star Forge, and at the time of the message, had already initiated docking procedures. So Aayla's theory had been right - Revan _had_ wanted him to come to her. The Dark Lord had allowed Carth to dock... but since then... nothing but silence. The waiting nearly drove her mad.

"You needn't worry so much," Jedi Master Alex Faxx stated blithely from his seat at the nav computer terminal. "The detonator will get the job done if Captain Onasi doesn't."

Aayla spun to glare at him, hands on her hips. "That hardly makes me feel any better," she snapped.

Faxx turned to look at her with those maddeningly expressionless eyes of his. "Well, it should," he said. "That is our primary objective, after all. Destroy the Star Forge. And, if possible, Darth Revan. Now we know Darth Revan is aboard the Star Forge." He turned back to the nav computer screen. "And that detonator will destroy enough of the Star Forge to send the whole thing down into Rakata Prime's sun, no matter where Captain Onasi is when it explodes."

Aayla felt her throat tighten. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The Jedi sighed; looking over their pre-programmed jump coordinates as if he were engaged in a very routine conversation. "We took measures to ensure both Darth Revan and the Star Forge would be destroyed in the explosion."

Aayla stalked to his side and grabbed the back of his chair, swinging it around so that he faced her again. "Stop speaking your Jedi riddles and answer me!"

He blinked at her outburst, but said calmly, "We put the detonator in Captain Onasi's armor."

A shock of adrenaline shot through Aayla's body and she straightened stiffly. "You did _what_?"

"In theory, he will be meeting with Revan," Faxx explained patiently. "So, putting the explosive in the suit of armor we gave him rather than in the ship seemed much more logical."

"Logical?" Aayla repeated incredulously. "And how in the kriffing galaxy is he supposed to survive a _detonator_ in his _armor_!"

The Jedi lifted one eyebrow. "Investigator, if we haven't heard from Captain Onasi by the time the detonator is set to go off, it is very likely he has already been killed, or worse."

Aayla pursed her lips, glaring at the Jedi Master for a second longer before she turned her back on him and paced to the other side of the bridge. He was right, of course, but she hated to admit it. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "But how stable is it?" she asked. "What if he's forced to engage in combat... is it going to go off on him?"

Faxx shook his head. "Very unlikely. Unless a blaster shot or lightsaber blade gets through the armor - in which case he'd be dead already anyway. Or if it's tampered with, but the chances of that are very slim."

"Tampered with how?" Aayla asked, turning back to the Jedi.

He shrugged. "The detonator has been specially designed to be almost undetectable. However, it still puts out an unavoidable, though very minimal, amount of residue that could potentially be discovered." He held up a finger as Aayla opened her mouth to protest. "But, they would have to be looking for it to even realize it was there, and have the right equipment to confirm its presence. Even then, the detonator wouldn't activate unless someone physically tried to remove it from within the armor."

"And you don't think Revan will be looking for something like that?"

Faxx shook his head. "Not in Onasi's armor, no."

Aayla chewed her bottom lip, her gaze drifting back out to the moon. She felt only slightly reassured by Faxx's words. It still seemed too risky... but then, this whole plan was risky, for all of them. They had done as Carth suggested and put the Fleet on standby, pulling every single available ship of the Republic Navy to these coordinates. They were scattered and hidden, some behind planets or moons, some behind cloaks, to avoid the notice of any scouts Revan might send throughout the space surrounding her precious Star Forge. But all of them were at the ready and waiting, only a few minutes from the automated shipyard via hyperspace, and as soon as Carth radioed them to tell them of Darth Revan's demise, they would make the jump. Hopefully the surprise attack coupled with the death of their leader would throw Revan's forces into enough disorder that they could be defeated. It had never been said aloud, never been spoken of in any of the briefings or meetings that had planned this attack, but Aayla knew as well as every other ship captain that this would be the Republic's last stand. If they lost this battle... there would be no more fighting for the Republic.

She began to pace the length of the bridge, and Faxx went back to monitoring the nav computer. The silence closed over them once again, broken only by the soft whirrs and beeps of the ship's automated instruments. Aayla checked the chronometer again, then swore at herself and dropped into a seat. There was nothing else to do but wait.

* * *

Carth saw Revan immediately, standing tall and proud on the observation deck, framed by an expansive stretch of cold, vast space, and his heart wedged into his throat. He stopped just over the threshold, his body suddenly leaden, his feet impossibly heavy. The door hissed shut behind him and Carth fought off a fleeting panic.

_Focus, concentrate_, he urged himself. _Do what you came to do..._

But he didn't move, just kept staring up at her. She wore the same dark robes as she had in the Korriban tomb, but this time she was real. And only yards away. His hand went to his blaster grip out of habit, but Carth stopped himself from drawing the weapon. Instead he curled his hand into a fist and swallowed hard.

The Dark Lord of the Sith watched him for a long, tense moment, and then a faint smile flickered across her lips. "Carth," she whispered gleefully, and the warmth of her tone took him completely off guard. It was almost enough to make him forget the blackness of her robes, the countless lives she had ruined, the endless fleet circling outside. Almost enough to make him forget the part of him that still wanted to kill her now before it was too late. Almost...

"It's good to see you again," she continued, descending the stairs to join his level. It was then he realized the two of them were alone in the Command Center. There were no other officers, bodyguards, or aids to occupy the huge space. Just him and Revan….

She came to a stop several meters in front of him and clasped her hands behind her back. Her face was soft and open, like it had been when he knew her as Moriel, before her downward spiral into darkness. How many times had he looked into that face for reassurance? For guidance? For love? The thought lit a small flame of anger in his chest.

"I must admit I'd always hoped you'd come back to me," she said quietly.

Carth's gaze hardened at her words. "Always hoped?" he repeated gruffly. "You _planned_ this. You planned this from the first day you dumped me on Nar Shaddaa."

She shrugged, seemingly oblivious to his biting tone. "Perhaps," she answered simply. "But the path you followed to reach this point was your own. You found the truth yourself, and that truth led you here. To me."

Carth shook his head. "The truth is I would have come here anyway. After what happened on Rakata Prime... all I wanted was to kill you. That's what got me through those months of servitude on that cesspit moon... the thought of putting a blasterbolt through your head."

His dark confession weighed heavily in the silence, and he noticed Revan stiffen slightly. But her voice remained nonchalant when she spoke again. "Is that why you came here, then?" she asked. "To kill me?"

Carth swallowed and dropped his eyes to the floor. His clenched fist relaxed, moving down to his blaster again. He hesitated for a second and then drew the weapon from its holster. His eyes went back to Revan's face; she watched him intently, but made no other motion. Carth ejected the blaster's carbine and it clattered loudly to the floor, spinning across the smooth tiles to rest against Revan's boots.

"No," he said finally, hoarsely. "I didn't come here to kill you." He meant to go on, but the words stuck in his throat. He had thought of nothing but this moment since he'd left Korriban on the _Iridonian Star_, but now that it had finally come, the speech he had so carefully planned would not. He took a deep breath, searching her face, looking for the monster he had seen on the Rakatan beach. But her expression was clear; her blue eyes met his scrutinizing gaze openly, and for a moment he thought he saw a glimpse of the desperation he'd first witnessed in the Korriban tomb.

It was brief, but enough. If there was ever a time she would listen to him, this was it. This was his chance to speak his mind, to find out if the feelings Revan had let slip in the Korriban tomb were genuine or not, and he had to take it. He might not get another opportunity. And he had nothing else to lose.

He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "I came because I made a promise," he blurted. "I made a promise to you... to myself... to save you if you made the wrong choice. To stand by you no matter what lie ahead. I came because... because despite everything you've done... everything you put me through..." Carth shook his head again. It sounded insane. It sounded wrong. But the emotions he'd experienced while she died in his arms were real. They were true. They could not be denied, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. "I love you," he whispered at last. "And I want to give you the future I talked about... the future with me."

He finished breathlessly and then waited for her to say something, his heart pounding in his temples, his hands clenched into painful fists. But he had said it, at least he had said it… the rest was up to her.

Revan smiled, and it was amazing how such a genuine gesture transformed her whole appearance. She had not looked so happy, so whole since their time of celebration on Kashyyyk. "But Carth," she breathed, "that's all I ever wanted from the start."

"No," he said, concentrating on making his words even and firm. "Not like this. I want a future with Moriel."

Her smile vanished, her eyes darkening. "There is no Moriel," she snapped. "Only Revan. Only me."

"Fine," Carth said, "then I want Revan. The Revan I fell in love with. The Revan I met on the _Endar Spire_, the Revan I fought alongside on Taris, Tatooine, Dantooine, Kashyyyk..."

"And Korriban?" Revan sneered, mocking him.

"Yes," Carth answered quietly, feeling a pang in his heart for Dustil. "Even Korriban." But that's where it had all started going wrong. He knew it and so did she.

"I'm still that person, Carth."

"No, you're not. You've changed. The Star Forge has corrupted you, made you someone else... someone I don't recognize... a monster. You've let the darkness bury the person you once were... the person I love. I just want her back. I came to find her... to see if she's still in there... somewhere. To tell her I love her. To tell her that all I want, more than anything, is a life with her. A life somewhere far away from all of this."

The silence rang in his ears and Carth held his breath, waiting for her reply. He had never imagined she would let him go on for so long. She actually seemed to be listening to him, but Carth hardly dared let himself feel triumphant. It was still too soon to know... Revan turned away from him, facing the cold stare of the stars.

"And what would you do if you found she was gone?" the Dark Lord asked finally.

A stab of despair lanced through Carth's heart at the question, but he refused to give in to it. Instead he holstered his unloaded blaster and straightened, trying to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat. "Then I have nothing else to live for."

Revan turned back to him abruptly. "Why won't you join me?" she demanded. "Everything you saw in that tomb was your own, Carth. Your own opinions, thoughts, fears, desires... things you knew to be true but feared to accept. I only molded the environment around you to help bring them to the surface. I wanted you to _see_, Carth. I wanted you to see that you and I do not think as differently as you want to believe. You know the Republic is weak and failing. You know there is corruption at its heart, and that something must be done, yet you stubbornly refuse to aid me in my efforts to restructure and rebuild."

"Maybe something should be done," Carth said heatedly, "but conquest and murder solves nothing. This is not the way."

"No," Revan countered, "this is the _only_ way." She gestured toward the window. "There is a very great threat out there, Carth. Only an organized, efficient, militarized government united under one ruler will have a chance to stand against that threat. And I am the only one capable of creating, of leading, such an empire. You've always wanted to do something great; something to make your life worthwhile... here is your chance, Carth. Here is your chance to save the galaxy, to be a hero." Her expression softened again. "I want you to be an Admiral of my Fleet, Carth. Stay with me, command an armada... together we could accomplish so much more."

Carth's heart dropped into his stomach. "No," he said heavily. "I can't help you destroy the Republic. I won't."

Her blue eyes narrowed; he could sense the monster coming back.

He tried one last time. "Please, Revan. Don't let it end like this. It's not too late for you... for us. Leave with me. We can go back to how it used to be... like it was on Kashyyyk. Remember Kashyyyk?"

The Dark Lord of the Sith smiled again, but this time the expression held such pity... "Oh, Carth," she whispered. "You're living in the past, like you always have. You don't understand, do you? The Republic has abandoned you. They never came for you on Nar Shaddaa, and they won't come for you now. They won't take you back. Not after this. There's nowhere for you to go... nowhere for me to go. It _is_ too late for us, Carth. There's no turning back, not for either of us."

Carth looked at her, and knew then that Veeren Siege was right. Darth Revan played for keeps. She wasn't going to let him leave the Star Forge. But maybe she wasn't going to kill him, either. Maybe she just needed more time... more time to be shown there was another way, that it wasn't too late... that he loved her, more than he ever thought possible after all that had happened between them.

The Command Center's door hissed open, interrupting Carth's thoughts. He turned to face it, nearly pulling his blaster before he remembered it was useless. A woman strode angrily into the room, a woman Carth recognized immediately.

"Bastila," Revan snarled from behind him. "What do you think you're doing?"

The young woman sent a scathing glare in Carth's direction as she brushed passed him, coming to a stop in front of her Master. "Preventing you from making a terrible mistake," she answered crisply.

Revan drew herself up, one hand gripping her lightsaber, and Carth took several steps backward. "How dare you presume to tell me my business," the Dark Lord spat vehemently.

"But Master," Bastila continued, undaunted, "you are the Dark Lord of the Sith! About to be ruler of the galaxy! And you are letting _him_ distract you from your next conquest. Look at all that you have done in the past year... your power grows by the day! You don't need him," she jabbed a finger at Carth, "he's useless to you! I have been silent for too long now, and I cannot watch this weaken you any longer. The galaxy is in your grasp... do not allow him to take that from you."

"You would have done better to keep your silence," Revan growled, and one of her red blades crackled to life.

Carth shifted uncertainly and wondered for the first time if he should have worn that suit of armor Intelligence had given him after all. He eyed his blaster carbine where it still lay several meters away. But Bastila held her ground, lifting her chin defiantly.

"You see?" the Dark Apprentice asked. "You are protecting him even now - at the expense of your empire! He has defied you once, yet you let him live... a privilege you've granted no other sentient being since you resumed the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. I am not the only one who has noticed your softness for him... others are talking, asking questions..." Bastila shook her head. "Surely you must realize your attachment to him is endangering everything you've worked for up until this point, everything you hope to accomplish in the future..."

"Your naivety blinds you," Revan snapped.

Bastila stiffened, her eyes flashing. "And your ridiculous feelings for that Republic lapdog blind you," the younger woman shot back. "End him, Master. You don't need him, you never have. You are stronger without him-"

Revan gave a cry of rage and lunged at Bastila, her lightsaber swinging. But the Apprentice leapt into a backward somersault, barely escaping the end of the Dark Lord's blade. Bastila ignited her own double-bladed yellow lightsaber as she hit the ground, and then the two women met in a vicious duel.

Carth took the chance and ran toward his abandoned carbine. He dropped to his knees beside it, scooped it up, and slapped it back into his blaster, hearing the comforting whine as it engaged.

"You should learn not to speak of things you know nothing about!" Revan snarled above the snapping of their blades. She parried a strike from Bastila and struck out with a boot, catching the younger woman in the abdomen. Bastila staggered at the impact, grunting in pain, but straightened just in time to block Revan's next blow.

"I know that he makes you weak," Bastila said breathlessly, attempting a sweep at Revan's legs.

The Dark Lord dodged the yellow blade, simultaneously drawing her second lightsaber, and even Carth could see the transformation on her face from where he knelt by the observation deck's stairs. He had been so close... but Bastila had ruined it all... brought out the monster once again... He raised his blaster, taking aim. His hand shook violently and Carth ground his teeth, using his other hand to steady the weapon.

"I'll show you weak," Revan rasped, and her voice sent goose bumps racing down his arms. She attacked Bastila mercilessly, using both lightsabers in a flurry of blows that drove her Apprentice back against the blast door. Carth struggled to track them with his blaster's sight, but then Revan's short blade snapped Bastila's lightsaber in two, and her full blade hovered just inches from the younger woman's neck.

The two of them stopped then, very still save for their ragged breathing, and glared at each other. Bastila dropped what remained of her lightsaber, but the humming of Revan's blades was all that filled Carth's ears. He took a deep breath, knowing he would only get one shot. His palms were slick against the blaster grip, and he took another breath. _Now, do it now! _But his trigger finger felt frozen.

"I am not weak," Revan whispered, barely audible. "And you will die for thinking otherwise." She drew her lightsaber back, preparing to sink it into Bastila's throat, but in that instant the Apprentice's eyes went to Carth, and a volley of Force lightning arched across the empty space and slammed him back against the stairs.

His scream echoed in the cavernous room, and somewhere far away he heard Revan call out to him. Then the pain was gone; he collapsed back to the floor, automatically scrambling for his fallen blaster despite the tingle of electricity that still lingered in his body.

"Now do you understand?" Bastila asked gruffly, and Carth looked up to see Revan sprawled on her back, her own lightsaber held at her nose by the enraged Apprentice. His heart skipped a beat. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen... He stretched out for his blaster, his fingers grazed it...

"You _are_ weak as long as he still lives," Bastila continued. "And if you still cannot see that I am right, then I will end it myself and prove it!"

Carth snatched up his blaster and rolled onto his knees, aiming for Bastila, but the weapon jerked from his hands just as he pulled the trigger. He blinked, hardly realizing it had landed in Bastila's free hand and now pointed directly at him. His stupor shattered as the blaster fired; he dove for the floor again and the bolt chewed into the scaffolding behind him, only barely singeing the sleeve of his jumpsuit. He immediately jumped to his feet, searching for cover, but Revan snarled something incomprehensible and lashed out mightily with the Force, flinging Bastila high into the air. The woman crashed into the opposite wall, then crumpled to the ground in a motionless heap.

Revan slowly picked herself up and adjusted her robes, then summoned her full-length lightsaber into her hand. She stared at the unconscious Bastila for a long moment, then turned her burning gaze toward Carth.

He stood frozen, heart pounding, unable to breathe, every muscle coiled. He had no idea what to expect. No idea if Bastila had succeeded in proving her point or not. But he thought, maybe, there was something different now in Revan's eyes. Something almost reassuring, almost familiar... Some of the tension in his stance relaxed.

Revan opened her mouth to speak, but the deafening roar of what sounded like an explosion drowned out her words. The Star Forge shuddered; Carth caught himself on the stair's railing, feeling the blood drain from his face. _The Fleet? No, I told them to wait... they said not until I contacted them!_

The space station shuddered again and klaxons blared, but even over the sound of the alarms Carth could hear the horrible screeching wail of buckling transparisteel. He turned a wide-eyed gaze toward Revan. Her face went slack for a split second, but then she ran to the computer terminal on the far wall, her fingers working furiously over the keyboard. Carth went to her side, looking over her shoulder as she pulled up a diagnostics screen of the Star Forge.

A large part of its lower section had been completely vaporized, and Carth found he could breathe again. _Not the Fleet... that blast had to have come from inside..._

Revan rounded on him abruptly, her eyes smoldering. "Was this _your_ doing?" she whispered dangerously.

Carth's mouth fell open, but before he could begin forming his protest, Revan's private comm beeped insistently. She pulled it from her belt and flicked it on, her glare remaining locked on Carth and immobilizing him as efficiently as a stasis-field.

"Report," she barked into the comm.

"Lord Revan," a frantic officer's voice came back, "there's been an explosion in one of the weapons labs! The precautionary shielding around the lab had not been engaged – the blast completely destroyed that section of the Star Forge and severely damaged the east capacitor fin-"

"Then initiate emergency protocols," Revan ordered calmly.

"But, my Lord, the explosion triggered a chain reaction that led all the way to the orbital stabilizers... our orbit is rapidly decaying - radiation levels throughout the space station are spiking - we'll be swallowed up by Rakata Prime's star within the hour... there's nothing we can do..."

Revan's glare narrowed, and Carth swallowed hard.

"Order all personnel to abandon the station," she commanded at last. "Have all orbiting ships pull back to a safe distance and prepare to take on escape shuttles."

"Yes, my Lord. Right away."

Revan clicked the comm off, then crushed it in her fist. The klaxons continued their rhythmic screaming, interrupted only by the immediate announcement to abandon the Star Forge.

"Tell me now, Carth," Revan growled over the noise of the alarms. "Tell me the truth. Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No," he croaked. "No, I didn't."

"Liar!" a haggard voice cried from behind them, and then a white-hot pain blossomed in Carth's chest. He looked down to see the sizzling end of Revan's short blade protruding from his torso, and he wished he had worn the armor. The lightsaber withdrew and he looked to Revan, but she hadn't been the one to impale him. Her face had morphed into an expression of horror. Carth opened his mouth, there was so much he suddenly wanted to tell her, but his lungs wouldn't expand. He couldn't breathe.

He dropped to his knees, still looking up at her, pleading with her. Then he saw it, a glimpse of the woman he had loved. So he'd been right... she _was_ still in there. And maybe this was the only way to reach her. Maybe this was the only way to save her….

He felt himself falling, and then... nothing.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	31. Regrets

**Author's Note:** I admit that beginning with this chapter, I have taken some liberty in creating and naming the "new" leaders of the Republic resistence against Darth Revan. Since the previous leaders were (nearly?) all killed in the first Battle of Rakata Prime, or Battle of the Star Forge, I felt it was necessary. And since I couldn't find anything in the way of who took over after those leaders were killed (since it's non-cannon, after all), I created my own characters. If anyone has any "official" knowledge of who those leaders might have been, however, feel free to let me know and I will write those people in. Otherwise, I hope my people will suffice. :) Many thanks to my wonderful beta Rian Sage for her superb skills, and I apologize for taking so long in posting this chapter. I have no excuse but laziness... I hate editing. Lol. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Regrets**

Aayla hadn't been sitting down for long when a shrill beeping from the comm unit brought her to her feet again. She prayed it was only Carth checking in, telling them that Darth Revan had finally been exterminated, and sent an expectant look to the communications officer, who was already busy receiving the signal. His face paled as his eyes skimmed the screen and her heart rose into her throat. "What is it?" she managed to choke out.

The officer lifted his eyes from the monitor and swallowed hard. "It's the detonator signal, Investigator," the man whispered hoarsely. "The device has been activated."

The bridge floor seemed to tilt beneath her feet and Aayla caught the back of the nearest chair to steady herself.

"Are you sure?" Master Faxx asked, and Aayla was surprised to hear him sound alarmed.

"Yes sir," the officer confirmed.

Aayla met Alex Faxx's eyes, and thought she saw some humanity there for the first time since she'd met the man. But there was no time to dwell on what the premature detonation meant. "Contact our scout to confirm the Star Forge was hit," she ordered.

"Yes ma'am," the officer replied, and he sent out an alert to the lone fighter they had strategically placed at the outskirts of Revan's fleet. A few tense minutes later the pilot reported in: the Star Forge had been badly damaged, and was now sinking slowly into the star it had orbited for thousands of years. The surrounding starships were pulling away, hoping to avoid being damaged by the blast when the falling space station inevitably broke apart under the sun's crushing gravity.

The anxiety that had gripped Aayla's lungs released briefly. At least the mission would not be a failure. At least Carth would not have died for nothing... she fought down the grief that welled in her chest and took her seat, keying the comm to address Fleet Admiral Grisham. "Admiral," she said breathlessly, "this is Investigator Surra reporting in. We have a confirmed detonation of the explosive device and confirmed damage to the Star Forge. If we want to take advantage of the situation, I recommend we make the jump into hyperspace as soon as possible."

"Acknowledged, Investigator," the man's voice came back tinny over the speaker. "That's good news. Stand by for orders."

"Affirmative, Admiral."

No sooner had she switched the comm frequency to the broadcast channel than the orders came, sounding on the comm of every ship throughout their gathered forces. "Attention all ships," Admiral Grisham announced, "prepare to jump to hyperspace on my mark. Shields at maximum upon subspace re-entry, and fire at will upon any encountered enemy vessels."

Aayla glanced to Master Faxx; he punched a few buttons on the nav computer and brought them out from around the moon, then nodded to her. She looked out the viewport again, seeing the rest of the Fleet gradually emerge into open space as well. "Jump on my mark," the Fleet Admiral was saying, and Aayla buckled the restraint harness around her shoulders in preparation for the jump and the coming fight.

_I'm sorry, Carth. I never meant it to happen this way..._

"Three, two, one, mark!"

The cruiser streaked into hyperspace, and it was too late for regrets.

* * *

Revan watched in horror as Carth dropped heavily to the floor. She stared at the lightsaber burn still smoking in his chest, and her body went suddenly cold.

"Now it is over," Bastila whispered hoarsely from where she stood over Carth's prone form, still holding Revan's short blade in one hand. "And maybe now you will realize –"

Revan yanked the lightsaber from Bastila's hand with the Force and ignited it mid-air. The smooth metal of the haft had barely touched the Dark Lord's palm before she ducked and spun in a cut that cleanly severed Bastila's head. The body-less appendage hit the floor with a sickening crack, and the Apprentice's body collapsed at Revan's feet. But the Dark Lord hardly realized what she had done. She stood still for a long moment, breathing hard and shaking with some nameless emotion. The warning klaxons and shuddering Star Forge seemed far away. Only Carth's body filled her awareness, and slowly, with heavy steps, she went to his side and looked down at him.

Revan's lightsabers dropped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and rolled away across the slanting deck. She knelt next to Carth, brushing the two stubborn strands of hair from his forehead, and choked on a sob she hadn't felt coming. She gently lifted Carth's head into her lap, her fingertips straying toward the charred and blackened edge of his fatal wound. But as her hand ran across his body a presence flickered against her senses and she froze, her breath catching. Her heart began to pound fiercely against her ribs. She thought she had felt…

But she hardly dared to think it. Revan closed her eyes, forced herself to breathe deeply, and reached out to Carth with the Force. And then she found him. He was still alive! Barely, and not for much longer if something wasn't done immediately. Revan pushed down the panic that threatened to overcome her and drew on the Force for strength, channeling it through herself and then sending it to Carth. She straightened her shoulders and focused her power, concentrating on the current of the Force around her. She placed her hands on either side of Carth's wound, sensing the damaged tissue, the pain, the fading life signature…

It had been a long time since she had used the Force to heal anyone other than herself. And she had grown so accustomed to unleashing the violent outbursts of the Dark Side that Revan now found it surprisingly difficult to evenly control the flow of the Force through her touch. She struggled to keep it level and soothing while she manipulated it to restore Carth's injured organs, directing her own energy into him to help sustain him during the long and difficult process.

_Come back to me, Carth_, she silently willed him, and her thoughts echoed in the Force bond that joined them. _Please come back to me. _

* * *

There was a long, deep, silent blackness. Then a whisper, "Carth?"

He looked toward the voice, but saw no one. Only the blackness that surrounded him. He hung suspended in it, floating. He _thought_ he was floating; he couldn't feel anything…

"Carth, please. Please come back to me." The whisper echoed all around him, and he recognized the voice. But he still couldn't see her. The blackness seemed to grow darker, taste heavier…

"Don't leave me. I still need you. Please…"

A strange warmth began to grow in his chest, and then a blinding light exploded in front of his eyes, sending the darkness rushing away in a vortex of pain. He screamed into the empty whiteness, but then the whisper came again, and he could barely hear it over the sounds of his own agony.

"You must be strong, Carth. Fight it. Fight your way back… come back to me…"

_No_, Carth thought desperately, grinding his teeth; every breath seemed to tear his lungs from his body. The pain was almost enough to bring the darkness back… _I'm tired of fighting. I don't want this anymore…_

The brightness abruptly vanished, along with the pain, and Carth stood on a balcony overlooking a Coruscanti sunset. A light breeze cooled his face; he took a deep breath of the evening air and realized the motion no longer hurt. A soft tap on his arm caused him to turn, and he saw Moriel standing beside him, smiling gently. Long brown strands of hair blew across her face in the breeze; the skirt of her dark purple dress fluttered about her legs. She looked back over her shoulder into the apartment's living quarters and Carth followed her gaze.

A young girl of about eleven sat on the floor there, fully involved in a game of dejarik with T3-M4. But she had Carth's eyes, unmistakably, and he felt his throat close up as he realized who the girl must be.

"This is what you wanted," the familiar voice said quietly. "This is how it should have been." The Moriel beside him put a hand on his arm and Carth tore his eyes away from the girl to look at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, staring into his face with her clear blue gaze. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this." She looked back to the girl and an expression crossed her face that Carth had never seen her wear before… regret. "Maybe," she continued hesitantly, "maybe there is still a chance…" Her eyes came back to Carth, fierce in their intensity, and he took a step back in alarm. "But you can't give up on me," she stated firmly. "You have to come back to me…"

She stepped away from him and Carth reached out for her, but then everything was swallowed into blackness again, and she was gone.

* * *

Revan's connection to Carth faltered and died, and she had not the strength to renew it again. She crumpled to the floor, feeling weak and dizzy, gasping for breath. _Get up_, she ordered herself. _You're not finished yet. You have to get to the _Hawk_… the Star Forge is sinking…_ But despite her best efforts, Revan couldn't bring herself to move. Stabilizing Carth had completely exhausted her.

_Are you going to give up so easily? Are you going to let yourself be destroyed like this? You are the Dark Lord of the Sith – you are stronger than this! Stop being so pathetic…_ Revan shoved herself into a sitting position and swayed, but managed to stay upright by bracing a hand against the floor. The Star Forge rocked around her, the movement of the deck no longer just caused by her fatigue. She had no idea how long she had spent in the healing trance, but from the slow tilt of the stars outside the observation viewport, she didn't have much time to get to the docking bay.

"Exclamation: Oh, what a glorious scene of death and carnage this is!"

Revan startled at the voice and turned toward the Command Center's doors, relieved to see HK-47 standing there.

"Remorseful Statement: I only regret that I was not present at the time these two pathetic meatbags expired."

For once Revan was not amused by the droid's disrespect for organic life forms. "Help me," she snapped gruffly, forcing her tired body to go to Carth's shoulders and prop up the soldier. "We have to get to the _Ebon Hawk_."

HK's yellow photoreceptors blinked. "Confused Query: But Master, would it not be more logical to leave the meatbag's corpse behind?"

Revan glared at her assassination droid. "He's not dead. Now come help me before it's too late."

"Hopeful Suggestion: I could simplify things for you, Master, and finish the job." HK leveled his blaster rifle at Carth's head. "Extrapolation: It would, after all, make our journey to your ship that much faster."

"_Now_, HK!"

The droid clanked over to her side, his photoreceptors brightening. "Appeasement: Yes, Master. I am, as always, willing to assist. Statement: Although I do believe I must have previously misunderstood your intentions regarding this Onasi meatbag. Query: Was not your plan to leave him to die a slow and miserable death in the slums of Nar Shaddaa? Amendment: Or, since he managed to escape Nar Shaddaa, allow him to suffer a long and most painful existence in your torture chamber until you deemed him pathetic and useless enough to terminate?"

"I don't have time to discuss this with you, HK," Revan growled. "Just pick him up – carefully – and follow me."

The droid's yellow eyes dimmed again and he holstered his rifle. "Weary Resignation: Yes, Master. As you wish. Indignant Statement: It is quite degrading, however, to have my unparalleled assassination protocols reduced to nothing more than a meatbag transport."

Revan ignored HK's complaints and picked herself up off the floor as the droid reached down and easily lifted the unconscious Carth into his metallic arms. Another wave of dizziness passed over the Dark Lord and she wavered for a moment, but then regained her composure and looked for her lightsabers. They had come to rest against the far wall; Revan held out her hands to summon them and was alarmed when nothing happened. Healing Carth had affected her far more than she had originally thought.

Attempting to hide her unease at this realization, Revan strode confidently across the room to her weapons and picked them up manually. She clipped them back onto her belt, and without so much as a backward glance at Bastila's mutilated body, Revan led HK out of the Command Center toward the elevator.

* * *

A short while later Revan sat in the pilot's seat of the _Ebon Hawk_, foregoing the preflight check in favor of time. HK had strapped himself in the copilot's chair, but not without sufficient whining about the wastage of his protocols on the act of flying. Revan had ignored him, as usual; she needed his almost-instantaneous reaction time to get them out of the docking bay before the Star Forge dropped too close to the sun for the _Hawk_ to break its gravity.

But even as the freighter came to life and Revan carefully swung its bow around to face the bay doors, she thought it might be too late. Rakata Prime's star blazed blindingly bright in front of her; her eyes watered maddeningly as she fought to see the controls through the painful glare. She tried to gather the Force around her to dim the light, but she was still too weak, and the Force wouldn't obey her commands. Revan swore profusely; she had always hated feeling helpless. She gave up on her attempt and bent all her concentration on piloting the freighter as well as she could without the use of the Force.

Carth had been secured in the _Hawk_'s medbay but even as Revan guided the freighter from the hangar and around the damaged space station toward open sky, she wasn't sure what to do with him. None of this had gone according to her plan, other than the fact Carth had sought her out. And while she had prepared for certain deviances here and there, she had never imagined Bastila's interference, the destruction of the Star Forge, or Carth's injury. It had all gone wrong…

Klaxons blared through the cockpit, interrupting Revan's brooding. A quick glance at the instrument panel in front of her confirmed what she had feared from the beginning of this trip: they were too close to the sun. The _Ebon Hawk_'s engines weren't powerful enough; the freighter's speed was steadily decreasing.

"HK, reroute auxiliary power to the engines," she ordered immediately.

"Acknowledgement: Yes, Master." His metal digits flew over the controls. "Statement: Auxiliary power now rerouted."

Their speed increased slightly and held, but the small freighter began to shake under the strain. Revan tightened her grip on the steering yolk, keeping her gaze fixed on the stars beyond, where the _Leviathan_ and the rest of her fleet still awaited her arrival.

_Almost there… almost there…_

The entire ship shuddered around her, the pings and groans of the stress on the hull echoed above the warning alarms and roar of the engines. But it seemed the extra boost from the auxiliary generators was just enough to save them; slowly and steadily the _Ebon Hawk_ crawled from the grip of the sun's gravity, until it finally broke free and shot off into space with a sudden speed that slammed Revan back into her seat.

She recovered quickly, however, and turned the freighter toward the hovering _Leviathan_ in the distance, shutting off the alarms. "HK, disengage auxiliary power."

"Acknowledgement: Auxiliary disengaged, Master."

The _Hawk_ slowed its breakneck race to a more reasonable speed. Revan reached for the comm unit just as it crackled and hissed with static, startling her. "-_iathan_, hailing Lord Revan, please respond," came a familiar voice. "I repeat: this is Captain Medan of the _Leviathan_, hailing Lord Revan, please respond."

The Dark Lord smiled at the sound of the hail. At least Captain Medan was doing his job. Doubtless he had noticed her failure to appear on the cruiser with the rest of the Star Forge escapees, and had likely been concerned by her lack of communication since she had ordered the evacuation. The Captain's hail was an attempt to discover her whereabouts without making it sound like he doubted her abilities or was ordering her to report. But Captain Medan had always been a very tactful man – just one of the many reasons Revan had selected him as commander of her flagship.

She keyed the comm to reply. "Captain Medan, this is Lord Revan, I read you loud and clear. I'm en route to you now; ETA three minutes."

The man didn't waste time with questions. "Copy that, my Lord. Your usual docking bay will be ready for your arrival."

"I would expect no less. Revan out." She flicked off the communications console and leaned back in her chair, glancing over to HK-47. "The sun's radiation must have interfered with our communications," she mused aloud.

"Statement: That is certain, Master. Thought: With as long as you chose to remain on the station, it is likely that radiation has found its way into the cells of your organic being, as well."

Revan grunted. "I can take care of that." But with as weak as she was, she knew it might be awhile before she could use her healing techniques again. She did not mention that to HK. Nor was she about to make a trip to the _Leviathan_'s appointed medic. She could not afford to show any signs of weakness. Not now, not after a third of her fleet had just witnessed the destruction of her greatest advantage over the Republic.

Instinctively Revan looked over her shoulder in the direction of the _Hawk_'s med-bay, though she knew she couldn't see it from the cockpit. Something wasn't right about the Star Forge explosion, and she was having a hard time ignoring the nagging voice in the back of her mind that warned her Carth was somehow responsible.

_He said he didn't do it_, she reminded herself. _And you sensed no deception. _"HK," she suddenly said aloud, "did you by chance get an opportunity to examine the structural diagnostics of the Star Forge after the explosion?" She could only hope the droid would have gotten a better chance to examine the read-outs then she had.

HK turned his head to look at her, his photoreceptors blinking eagerly. "Answer: Why of course, Master. Explanation: Being a machine of most sophisticated design myself, I was naturally curious as to what kind of an explosion could have caused such damage in such a short amount of time."

"And?" Revan urged. "What did you find out?"

"Gleeful Statement: Why Master, I am delighted you asked! Answer: I discovered the explosion occurred in the –"

A bright flash of light outside the viewport interrupted the droid's account, and then the belly of a Hammerhead-class capital ship filled Revan's sight. She swore again and grabbed the freighter's controls just as the proximity alarms went off, blaring their warning almost too late. Revan yanked the _Hawk _hard to port, its nearness to the capital ship made apparent by the clarity with which she could see the carbon scoring on the other ship's hull.

The small freighter scraped by the underside of the much larger craft, barely whisking away before the Hammerhead activated its shields. But Revan hardly had time to breathe relief; the space around her suddenly filled with starships – a fleet that wasn't hers. The red markings on them clearly told her who they belonged to… the Republic. And they were everywhere.

They opened fire immediately, plunging the _Ebon Hawk_ into a nest of laser blasts. The Dark Lord uttered another string of curses. It took everything she had to maneuver the freighter through the crossfire, and the _Leviathan_ was now lost behind a wall of Republic cruisers. She flew blindly toward her flagship's last known coordinates, though she hoped Captain Medan had already ordered evasive tactics.

But it was painfully obvious the Republic's surprise arrival had taken her commanders completely off guard; her ships were sluggish to return fire and many took substantial damage to their hulls before their shields finally glimmered to life. Revan vaguely registered the scope of the battle, a nagging voice again warning her that the appearance of the Republic fleet so soon after the Star Forge's destruction was far too convenient. She did not have time to fully process such thoughts, however, as a series of laser cannon blasts from a nearby Republic cruiser slammed into the _Ebon Hawk_ and sent it spinning out of control.

Another round of alarms pierced Revan's ears as the freighter's shields were depleted. She fought to level the freighter out, gritting her teeth against the disorientation of the spinning stars and swirling colors of cannon fire. "HK!" she barked.

His dry tone was barely audible over the klaxons. "Acknowledgement: I am attempting to restore shields, Master. Statement: It appears our narrow escape from the sun has drained our power supply, however. It may be awhile before I can –"

The _Hawk_'s wild roll sent it right into another volley of laser fire and it shuddered; Revan heard the unmistakable whine of an engine dying out, and then the instrument panel in front of her flickered and went dark. "HK!" she shouted again.

"Exasperated Statement: Yes, Master, we have now lost all power. I will attempt to regain engine control, but it seems our proximity to this system's planet has caused us to begin descending toward its atmosphere."

"Then get me back the guidance systems before we get too close," Revan snapped.

"Obedient Reply: Yes, Master. I will, of course, endeavor to comply."

But already Revan could see the dome of the planet rushing up to meet them, a sight that was frighteningly similiar to the last time they had crashed on Rakata Prime a year ago. And she knew even HK's almost-instantaneous reactions wouldn't be enough to save them this time. She braced herself as the _Ebon Hawk_ plunged into the planet's thermosphere and fell like a rock.

* * *

A voice came from somewhere far away, pulling Revan from the depths of the darkness that had overtaken her as the small freighter had crashed into the planet's surface.

"Query: Master? Master, are you damaged?"

Revan jolted fully back to consciousness and sprang to her feet, then nearly fell over again as a wave of dizziness caused her to stumble. HK caught one of her flailing arms and steadied her. "Statement: It is good to see you are still functional, Master."

The Dark Lord squinted at her assassination droid through her pounding headache, then looked around the beach on which she stood, wondering how she had gotten outside of the freighter. The _Ebon Hawk_ rested a mere ten meters away, its engines still smoking and a fair-sized portion of the front hull crumpled. She grimaced at the sight, then rubbed the back of her neck. She was lucky to have escaped with only a headache and a few bruises… if HK had not managed to fire up the undamaged engine at the last minute, Revan had no doubt both she and the droid would have been reduced to very small pieces.

_Carth!_ The thought tore through her without warning and Revan immediately scrambled up the dune of sand pushed aside by the mass of the fallen _Hawk_, wedging herself through the small space created by the half-opened boarding ramp. She went directly toward the med-bay, a strange urgency building in her throat until she could hardly breathe. She staggered into the tiny room, but for a moment was too afraid to look at him. She forced her eyes downward at last, then exhaled loudly in relief as she noticed the slow rise and fall of his chest.

She had strapped him securely into the bed to prevent any movement that might worsen his injury, and apparently her healing job had been enough to sustain him during the rough flight and eventual crash after leaving the Star Forge. Revan went to his side and put her hands on his arm, hoping to sense his vitals through the Force. Her powers were still not at full strength, but it was enough to assure her Carth was in no immediate danger. He would need extensive treatment to heal properly, however, and soon.

Revan clenched her jaw, her anger returning full force. Whoever was responsible for the Star Forge disaster was going to pay dearly for it, she would make sure of that.

"Statement: I have a theory, Master."

Revan startled, spinning around to face HK-47. She had not heard the droid come in, nor was she sure how he had managed to bend his durasteel frame through the small entrance. He must have managed it somehow, however, as Revan realized the droid had to have been the one to pull her from the wrecked _Hawk_ in the first place. "Well?" she snapped, resenting the fact he had snuck up on her.

"Explanation: As you know, your apprentice Bastila Shan had several items removed from the starship known as the _Iridonian Star_ upon the meatbag Onasi's arrival on the Star Forge."

Revan nodded once in recognition of this fact. She had not wanted to seem too trusting of Carth…

"Statement: One such item was a footlocker containing a number of military-issue weapons and armor. Upon examination of the contained artifacts, a certain Lieutenant Sanders discovered a miniscule energy reading emanating from one of the suits of armor."

The Dark Lord lifted one eyebrow. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

HK's photoreceptors dimmed. "Answer: Lieutenant Sanders did not want to disturb you until he had a full report."

"Go on," Revan urged, but her voice was still cold.

"Statement: Lieutenant Sanders called me down to the primary weapons lab after examining the suit of armor for some time. The Star Forge lacked the necessary equipment to pinpoint the exact location of the energy source within the armor, and the meatbag hoped my specialized photoreceptors might be able to pick up the frequency well enough to help him pinpoint it."

Revan crossed her arms, beginning to piece things together herself. "And?"

"Admission: I was able to see the energy frequency to some extent, though not as well as I had hoped, and only well enough to narrow down the source to a general area of the armor. Statement: It appeared to be coming from somewhere _within_ the armor, as if it were a modification of some sort."

"A bomb," Revan said flatly.

The assassination droid's photoreceptors darkened again. "Insistent Statement: Master, at the time I concluded it was nothing more than a tracking mechanism. I assure you, had I had any suspicions that such a reading could have indicated an explosive device –"

The Dark Lord lifted a hand, waving away HK's words. "There was no reason for you to suspect such a thing in a suit of armor, HK," she admitted.

"Statement: But Master, had I stayed with that incompetent meatbag instead of going to correct the bounty hunter's sliced security cage, I might have been able to prevent the triggering of the device."

"What's done is done," Revan said absently. "There's nothing we can do to change it now." She frowned. "Did you say Veeren Siege's security cage had been _sliced_?"

HK nodded once. "Answer: Yes, Master. A computer spike had been used to hack into the control terminal and reprogram the cage to administer a lethal torture pattern. I had just finished eradicating the protocols established by the spike when the explosive device detonated. Statement: That is when I accessed the Star Forge's diagnostics and discovered the explosion originated from the same weapons lab in which Lieutenant Sanders had been working. Conclusion: My central processor then determined that the source of the strange energy readings within the suit of armor must have been the cause for the explosion, and that the meatbag Sanders must have unwittingly set it off."

Revan glanced down to Carth, studying him through narrowed eyes. Was it possible _he _had brought the bomb? Or had the device already been aboard Veeren Siege's ship? Had Carth brought the Republic to her doorstep, or was it just incredible coincidence? She had spent the past year carefully planning the conversion of Carth Onasi, but was it possible that in the end, _she_ had been the one manipulated?

The thought made her furious; she felt the power of the Dark Side begin to gather around her once again. "You said you had a theory, HK," she whispered.

The droid straightened his rusty-red durasteel shoulders. "Affirmation: Yes, Master. After considering the chain of events that has transpired since the arrival of the meatbag Carth Onasi on the Star Forge, I have concluded that he must be the one responsible."

Revan's gaze did not leave the unconscious Republic soldier, but her hands clenched into fists. She had expected the droid to say as much. And though she wanted desperately to argue against HK's conclusion, she was finding it harder and harder to convince herself the droid – or her own misgivings - were wrong. "Explain," she said quietly. There was no use hiding from the truth. If Carth was guilty… if he had still chosen to be loyal to the Republic rather than be true to his love for her…

Anger made her fingers tingle with the energy of the Dark Side, but she held it at bay, listening to HK drone on behind her.

"Clarification: The nature of the explosive device itself is the most obvious clue," the droid began. "To integrate such a powerful device into a suit of armor without leaving any evidence of its implantation would require a level of skill beyond any meatbag in your employ. Statement: It is certain even the horned meatbag Veeren Siege would have had extreme difficulty finding a contact with such skill."

"So you're saying the suit of armor wasn't the bounty hunter's?"

"Affirmation: Correct, Master. Statement: As I mentioned before, that particular combat suit was found in a footlocker removed from the _Iridonian Star_. All items found in the footlocker were military-issue."

Revan finally pulled her eyes from Carth's peaceful form to look at her assassination droid. "The Republic?"

"Answer: Yes, Master. Given this fact, it is only logical to conclude that at some point before his arrival on the Star Forge, the meatbag Onasi had contact with an individual of the Republic who had considerable skill in demolitions."

The Dark Lord looked back to Carth Onasi, the shock of realization making her back stiffen. "Intelligence," she breathed. _On Korriban. The bastards must have gotten to him somehow…_

"Statement: That is a logical determination, Master. It is likely a meatbag associated with Republic Intelligence would possess both the knowledge and skill needed to implant such a device."

Revan stared disbelievingly at Carth, her heart pounding frantically in her ears as all the pieces fell into place. She thought she had been so close… but despite all they had been through together, despite their feelings for each other and all the words they had spoken, Carth's loyalty to the Republic remained blind. After all she had revealed to him in the Korriban tomb, the cursed Intelligence agents had somehow convinced him to do their dirty work. She gritted her teeth at the thought.

_Damn you, Carth. Damn you! Why can't you see how they use you? Why can't you see through their lies? _

He had brought the bomb. And somehow they had set it up so the Republic fleet knew exactly when to attack. It was the only explanation.

Revan felt herself trembling, only vaguely aware of the crackling energy that now danced around her hands. _I saved you!_ she screamed at him, sending the thoughts outward in the rushing currents of the Dark Side that churned around her emotions. _I just wanted you to understand! I just wanted you to see how much they have cost you, and how much I could offer you… I loved you, Carth. I needed you! And you betrayed me… you left me… you abandoned me for them! And now you have destroyed everything I worked for, everything I ever wanted! Why couldn't you just be with me? Why couldn't you just listen to me? Why couldn't you just love me!?_

The Force lightning danced over her arms like white-blue snakes, hissing and snapping as she lifted her fists into the air. All she had to do was open her fingers. Open her fingers and let her rage spill out, let her grief be ended in the satisfaction of seeing her power snap the fragile thread that still anchored Carth to life. She wanted to do it. She wanted to kill him. She had given him enough chances, and he had refused them all. He deserved death…

"_I didn't come here to kill you…"_ The words he had spoken on the Star Forge came back to her suddenly, and her breath caught at the memory of his voice. _"I want to give you the future I talked about... the future with me. Please, Revan. Don't let it end like this. It's not too late for you... for us. Leave with me. We can go back to how it used to be... like it was on Kashyyyk. Remember Kashyyyk?"_

A tear slipped down Revan's cheek and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her fists began to lower.

"_I can't help you destroy the Republic. I won't."_

The Dark Lord opened her eyes, glaring down at Carth, her insides a war of turmoil. She raised her hands again. _End it_, she ordered herself. _Kreia was right, he is your weakness. Even Bastila knew. You are weak as long as he is alive. Kill him. End it all. Be finished with it for good…_

The Force lightning at her fingertips gathered in intensity, becoming so bright she had to squint against it. She held it toward Carth, and hesitated. _What is wrong with you? Kill him! Kill him for stars' sake! _Revan opened her fingers, releasing all the fury, grief, confusion, and hatred she had held in check for over a year. The Force lightning branched out to every wall of the med-bay, the computer terminal and vitals control panel sparked and sizzled, then exploded in one brilliant flash. The walls were blackened, the floor scorched, and Revan's anguished scream filled every room of the ship. She emptied all the agony that filled her heart, and when the streams of lightning finally stopped she sank to her knees, breathing hard and shaking even worse than before. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she hardly noticed.

It took a few minutes for her to catch her breath well enough to speak. "HK?" she asked uncertainly, her voice raw. From the corner of her eye she saw the droid unfold himself from where he had ducked for cover behind the med-bay's doorway.

"Acknowledgement: Yes, Master?"

"Get the _Ebon Hawk_'s comm working. I want to talk to my fleet. And I want someone down here to get me the flaming hell off this planet."

"Statement: Of course, Master." There was a brief pause. "Tentative Observation: Master… if your very impressive display of your ability in the Force was meant to extinguish the meatbag Onasi… it appears the meatbag is still alive, Master."

Revan closed her eyes. "I know, HK."

Another brief pause followed her admission. "Acknowledgement: Very well, Master. I will go begin repairs to the communication system."

Revan nodded silently, thankful for the fact the droid could recognize when to let certain things drop. She listened to his footsteps fade toward the cockpit, then reached up and used the edge of the medical bed as leverage to pull herself to her feet. Her eyes went involuntarily to Carth… still sleeping, still alive, and completely unaware of how close he had just come to death. But at the last second she had redirected the lightning to obliterate everything else in the room. Everything but him. She could not bring herself to kill him. Not like that. Not so brutally. No use hiding from the truth… she loved him too much.

Revan turned away from Carth, her steps heavy with disgust at her weakness and grief at having been betrayed for a second time. But even as she made her way toward the cockpit, the Dark Lord felt her aching heart harden. She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. There would be no more baring of her soul, not for anyone. There would be no more trust, no more love, no more honesty. From now on she would work alone, travel alone, _be_ alone. Completely alone. There could be no more hurt that way.

Revan squared her shoulders, her pace becoming more confident and her strides longer as she reached her decision. The _Ebon Hawk_ had not been damaged beyond repair… she had no doubt HK-47 was capable of getting communications established between her and her fleet. She needed an update on the battle to determine if it was even worth fighting anymore, and then she would have a mechanics crew and shuttle brought down to her.

The mechanics crew would patch up the _Hawk_ - no use wasting a perfectly good freighter. And she and HK would shuttle up to the _Leviathan_ and get the hell out of the system before the Republic could claim a complete victory by capturing or killing her. They had forced her hand - Carth had forced her hand. There was only one thing left for her to do now, only one logical option. Only one way to save the galaxy. It was time for her to disappear… time for her to explore those Unknown Regions.

Revan paused at the doorway to the cockpit, looking back down the corridor toward the med-bay, and sighed deeply. She wished it had all happened differently. She wished it could be Carth waiting for her in the pilot's seat instead of HK. But the soldier had made his choices. And now he was going to be left behind. Left behind on this beach where he had first betrayed her a year ago. Left behind to die. It was as much as she could do for him.

The Dark Lord of the Sith ignored the tightness in her chest and throat as she turned her back on the med-bay and sent one last whisper through the Force:

_Goodbye._

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	32. Loyalties and Half Truths

**Author's Note:** I must give tons and tons of gratitude to Rian Sage for her beta-ing skills! I know she's been really busy lately, but still takes the time to read over my chapters and make sure you guys get something that makes sense! So thank her profusely:D Also thanks go to Kendoka Girl (previously Alice the Raven) for her immense amount of help in regards to military procedures and attitudes that come up in this (and later) chapters. Thanks so much to both of you girls! Couldn't have done it without you, seriously. Other than that, I just hope you all enjoy, as we're getting mighty close to the end now... wheee!

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* * *

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**Loyalties and Half-Truths**

The pain came again suddenly and Carth cried out, but the vocalization only made it worse. He gasped for air – it was so hard to breathe – and with every inhalation his body screamed at him to stop. Just the act of living seemed to be killing him. He would have writhed in agony, but pressure points on his legs, wrists, and chest held him down. He struggled against the restraints, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a fetal position and wait for the darkness to take away his pain again.

"Take it easy there, soldier," a rough voice said from somewhere nearby. "No need to be killing yourself after all my hard work to keep you alive."

Carth ceased his struggles, recognizing the voice, but his pain-riddled mind couldn't place it. He vaguely realized his eyes were open, staring up at a nondescript ceiling, and then he felt a sharp prick in the crook of his left elbow.

"There," the familiar voice continued. "That should settle you down a bit. Help you sleep. You need to rest… you should be dead, after all. But then, so should I." The man chuckled, and somewhere in Carth's mind a memory stirred, giving him an uneasy feeling. He tugged against the restraints again, but the burning sensation still tearing through his lungs made his efforts weak and short-lived.

He finally gave up and lay still, panting, his face damp with sweat.

"Although, if you recall," the voice mused, "_you_ were the one who tried to kill me. You might be asking yourself why I don't just repay the favor, now that you are quite literally at my mercy." The man grunted, and Carth forced himself to turn his head in the direction of the sound. He squinted at the blur of colors, trying to make out the features.

"Because I'm a businessman," the figure replied, and Carth's unfocused eyes caught on the unmistakable facial lines of black and yellow as the shape moved forward. "I don't let feelings or personal grudges get in the way. I do my job, get paid, and move on." The bounty hunter shrugged. "Well, maybe picking you up off that beach wasn't a job, but I like good stories." The Zabrak smiled to show his teeth. "And like I said, I'd love to know the end of yours."

Carth pulled at the bonds strapping his wrists to the bed, a new panic rising in his chest that added another layer of difficulty to his breathing struggles. But even as he renewed his efforts to free himself, he noticed his arms and head becoming heavy. The pain racking his lungs seemed to fade, and the room around him began to rock. Black crept in at the edge of his vision, but Carth no longer wanted to sink into unconsciousness. Not now… not while in the dubious care of the murderous Veeren Siege…

"Now, now, Captain," the Zabrak purred. "No need to upset youself. Just relax, get some rest… we'll reach Coruscant in another two days. I'm sure your people will be very happy to find out you're still alive."

Carth fought the effects of the drug long enough to hear the bounty hunter leave the medbay but in the end it was a losing battle. The sedative worked quickly, and just as Carth relinquished himself to the quiet darkness at last, he swore he heard the deep tones of the great Ondra Dossk rising above the hum of the engines.

* * *

"I saved you!"

_Carth heard her screaming at him, echoing through his very being. He felt her rage, her hurt – and the desperate desire to be with him that she kept buried away so deep even she was hardly aware of its full strength. Her words cut into his ears, but it was the violence of her emotions that surprised him, that made him realize how close he had been to winning her over…_

"I just wanted you to understand! I just wanted you to see how much they have cost you, and how much I could offer you… I loved you, Carth. I needed you! And you betrayed me… you left me… you abandoned me for them!"

_He winced at the accusations; their similarity to the claims Morgana had once made in the past was not lost on him. He had tried to keep from making the same mistake twice, but now Carth wasn't at all sure he had succeeded. He had, after all, essentially abandoned Moriel in her moment of greatest need, when she had been so suddenly forced to come to terms with her true identity. He couldn't help but wonder if things would have turned out for the better had he reacted differently to Saul's revelation. He thought they might have. And that nagging doubt, that maddening question, that lingering guilt would haunt him for the rest of his life. He was certain of that, at least._

"And now you have destroyed everything I worked for, everything I ever wanted! Why couldn't you just be with me? Why couldn't you just listen to me? Why couldn't you just love me!?"

_The answers to such questions were so very complicated, and yet the pain Carth sensed behind the words made him wish more than anything they weren't. He wished things could be simple even as a voice from deep within him told him they _were _simple. He loved Revan, and she loved him. That should have been enough._

_But it wasn't._

"Goodbye."

_The finality of the word caused a shocking fear to grip Carth's heart, and he threw himself frantically into the energy of Revan's presence in his mind. _No_, he pleaded, praying she could hear him in the same way he heard her. _No, Revan. There is still a chance for us… I love you! Please don't leave. Stay here, stay with me, we can still be together….

_But it was too late. She had already left. She was gone._

Carth opened his eyes with a start, his heart racing and adrenaline still stinging his limbs from the nightmare. He blinked in confusion, looking up at a blindingly white ceiling that was distinctly different from the one he last remembered staring at. He squinted at it, then turned his head to take in the rest of his surroundings.

An infirmary. A _Republic_ infirmary, at that. Frighteningly similar to the one he'd woken up in after landing his stolen freighter on Coruscant. And just like before, he was the only patient in the room. But this time there were no waiting doctors or officers. He was alone in the dim silence, accompanied only by the steady beeping of the vitals monitor standing off to his right. Carth glanced to the monitor's screen, relieved to see his numbers looked regular. He flexed his fingers experimentally, then lifted his arms from the bed and was surprised to find them unhindered. But then, he did feel almost normal…

The soldier moved to sit up; a sharp web of pain shot through his chest and Carth cried out, falling back to the bed. He clenched his jaw until the ache subsided, then gently prodded along his ribcage until he found the source of the discomfort. A bandage of some sort had been taped across his skin, and though it no longer hurt to breathe, it was apparent the injury still restricted his movement.

Carth frowned, looking around the room once more, trying to piece together what had happened and how he might have gotten there. He remembered being on the Star Forge and speaking with Revan. He remembered the arrival of Bastila and the terrifying battle that had then ensued between the Dark Lord and her apprentice. He had almost shot Revan during that fight; her fury had transformed her into something vicious and horrifying. Something that was nothing like the woman he had fallen in love with.

Carth closed his eyes, unwilling to relive those moments. He had thought she was lost to him, thought he had failed completely… but then Bastila had stabbed him…

He winced at the memory, one hand absently wandering back to the bandage on his chest. _I should be dead. I shouldn't have survived that._ He remembered the look on Revan's face when he'd been impaled. That's when he'd known he hadn't failed, that there was still a chance for her to come back to the light. His last, desperate hope had been that maybe his death would serve as a catalyst for her conversion. And then it had all gone black. But now… he wasn't dead. He hadn't died, and he had no idea what had happened to Revan.

He thought of the nightmare that had awoken him and knew, somehow, that it was more than just a dream. Even now it seemed he could still feel a lingering residue in his mind, as if she had never fully withdrawn herself from him. He tried to pinpoint that faint presence, hoping it might give him some clue as to what had become of Revan after he'd fallen unconscious. But every time he thought he came close to it, it slipped out of his reach again. His fists clenched handfuls of the sheet in frustration.

She had said she'd saved him. Given the nature of his injury and its extremely low survival rate, he had little doubt the claim was true. He had seen her healing powers at work before. Never to the extent she must have had to use on him… but he knew it was possible for a Jedi to perform such seemingly miraculous acts on rare occasions. And if she _had_ healed him, that feat alone spoke for the good he knew remained somewhere within her. But where was she now?

"_Goodbye."_

Just the memory of the word brought a lump to Carth's throat. It had been so final, so absolute, so cold. So different from the expression that had filled her eyes as he lay dying on the floor of the Command Center. So different from the first impression he'd gotten from her after falling unconscious. He could vaguely recall images of that first encounter, though whether they had come from her or himself he didn't know. But he remembered an apartment, and her purple dress, and a girl that had his eyes….

Carth pushed away the memories as he felt the sting of tears, and beside him the beeping of the vitals monitor increased its rhythm. He couldn't think of any of that now. It wasn't real, and never had been. In fact, he wasn't sure that incident hadn't been just another of his fevered hallucinations. He had spent so long in the empty darkness, so long in excruciating agony every time he became even semi-conscious, that Carth really wasn't sure how much of what he remembered was real at all.

The hiss of the infirmary's door interrupted his reflections. A man strode through, a doctor by the looks of him, and as he drew closer to the bed Carth recognized him as Dr. Beckett, the same man who had treated his injuries before. A strange sort of dread fell over the soldier at the sight of Beckett, and he lifted himself up onto his elbows before the pain in his chest reminded him not to move. He managed to swallow the cry this time and carefully eased himself back down onto the pillow.

"Easy there, Onasi," Dr. Beckett urged, moving around the bed to check the vitals monitor. "It seems you've been through a lot lately. And those bandages won't hold against too much movement. So I need you to stay as still as you can, okay?"

Carth glared up at the man through narrowed eyes. "Why don't you just restrain me then?" he asked bitterly, his voice gruff from disuse.

Dr. Beckett's eyes snapped over to regard the soldier, and the man frowned. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak the door hissed open again and three more people entered the room.

Carth turned his glare toward the new arrivals, and his expression only softened for one of them. Aayla.

To his complete surprise, she ran across the infirmary at the sight of him and threw her arms around his neck, one blue lekku warm against his cheek as she nearly smothered him with her hug. She straightened at last, gripping his left hand tightly in her fingers and completely ignoring the astonished looks of her companions. A brilliant smile lit across her face and her dark eyes shone with relief. "Carth!" she breathed, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm so glad to see you awake… we thought we might have lost you… for stars' sake I thought you were dead!"

"Yah," he croaked, his gaze drifting from her radiant face to the two men who stood behind her. "So did I."

Admiral Nigel Riffman stepped up beside Aayla, a smile of his own parting his dark beard. "You're a stubborn son of a schutta, you know that? I don't know anyone else that could have survived the hell you must have gone through."

_I had help_, Carth thought, remembering the visions of Moriel and the girl. Whatever their origins, they had been most of the reason he'd kept fighting to stay alive. That brief glimpse of what could have been, of what might still be, however small the chance, had kept him hanging on when all he'd wanted to do was give up. And then there was the fact it had been Revan who had pulled him from the brink of death in the first place. But outwardly he only grunted in reply to Nigel's statement.

"How do you feel now?" Dr. Beckett inquired.

_Confused_, Carth answered to himself. _Used. Abandoned. Lost._ And yet he knew those weren't the kind of answers the doctor was looking for. Nor were they the kind of answers Carth felt inclined to share. "Pretty good," he said at last. "A little stiff, a little sore. It still hurts a bit when I take a deep breath."

The doctor nodded, pulling a datapad from his belt and entering a few notes. "That's to be expected," he said clinically. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

Carth fixed the man with an incredulous look. "Yes. I was run through with a lightsaber. It's hard to forget."

Beckett entered a few more notes into his datapad, then glanced up to give Carth a small apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to be sure. It's a miracle you're still alive. To be quite honest, I don't understand it at all. The lightsaber punctured your right lung, damaged part of the main vein and artery leading to your heart, and vaporized three of your ribs in two places."

Carth grimaced, his lungs aching just at the description. He felt Aayla squeeze his hand again.

"Even had you been rushed to emergency care immediately after such an injury," Dr. Beckett continued, "it's doubtful any known medic could have reversed the damage well enough to save you. Yet when you arrived here, your right lung was almost completely regenerated, and the damage to the arteries and veins leading to your heart had been repaired to the point I almost couldn't tell they had once been burned."

"And my ribs?" Carth asked, not sure he even wanted to know.

The doctor shook his head. "Those were still in pieces, and likely the cause of most of your pain during your recovery. However, I have since managed to replace the vaporized sections with synthetic material through surgery. The remaining pain should steadily decrease over time, but it is imperative you remain as inactive as possible during this healing process."

"Right," Carth said, thinking he'd felt far more comfortable not knowing the details of his injury. He looked back to the three standing on his left, his eyes searching out the only one who hadn't yet spoken. Jedi Master Alex Faxx met the soldier's stare evenly. "So," Carth began, speaking to all of them but keeping his gaze on Faxx. "What happened? How long was I out?"

"It's been two weeks since the Star Forge incident," Dr. Beckett answered, and Carth glanced over to the doctor again in surprise.

"Two weeks?"

"That's right. Though you've only been here for nine days. A night guard found you lying on the roof. Any idea how you got there?"

Carth frowned, hazily recalling the music of the great Ondra Dossk and the blurred image of a tattooed face hovering over him. "Siege," he whispered in bewilderment.

"The bounty hunter?" Nigel asked, clearly as amazed as Carth. "Why would he do that?"

"I… I don't know," Carth answered slowly, though inwardly he now remembered hearing the Zabrak say something about how much he liked good stories. The soldier didn't think his present company would understand such an explanation, so he didn't mention it. It was best to keep things as simple as possible, at least for as long as he could.

"Well, whatever his reasons, it's a good thing he did," Beckett chimed in. "Another day or two without proper treatment and it would have been too late."

Carth was tired of talking about himself and how close he had come to death. He was already well aware of how serious his condition had been. "What happened?" he asked again. "To the Star Forge? To Revan?"

There was a brief silence in which Carth noticed Dr. Beckett and Nigel looked to Aayla and Master Faxx. Aayla's fingers tightened around Carth's palm, but it was the Jedi who stepped forward and put a hand on Carth's shoulder. "You should get some rest, Captain. There will be plenty of time to discuss things in detail once you have fully recovered. In fact, we will schedule a debriefing just as soon as Dr. Beckett releases you from the infirmary."

Carth looked to the doctor expectantly, but the man shook his head. "It won't be any time soon, soldier. A few more weeks at the least. You're just going to have to be patient."

Carth opened his mouth to protest, but Beckett was already preparing a hypo-syringe.

"No way around it, Onasi," the doctor warned, and he injected the contents of the syringe into Carth's forearm. "I know you have a lot on your mind right now, so I've given you a sedative. It will help you sleep."

"I've done enough sleeping," Carth snapped.

"Then think of it this way," Nigel put in amiably, "the more you rest now, the sooner you'll be out of this place."

Carth shot his old friend a glare.

"We'll leave you alone for awhile," Dr. Beckett said, and the three men moved for the door. Aayla hesitated a moment longer, but then also began to draw away. Carth grabbed onto her hand before she could leave. She turned back toward his bed, her eyebrows lifting in question.

Carth made sure the others were out of earshot, then pulled her closer to him. "Aayla," he whispered, "what happened to Revan?"

The Twi'lek dropped her eyes and began to shake her head, but Carth cut her off.

"Please, Aayla? I need to know."

Her dark gaze remained on the floor for a second longer, but then she lifted them to his face and sighed heavily. "She's gone, Carth," the Twi'lek whispered finally. "She's gone."

Carth stared at the Intelligence agent in silence. His mind was still trying to process the meaning of the reply when she pulled away from him and went to join her compatriots.

"Sleep well, Captain," Aayla called quietly from the doorway, and then they all left, and the door hissed shut behind them.

Carth looked after them for a long time, silently cursing his immobility. He wanted answers, _real_ answers, and he wanted them now. Yet it was clear they were going to keep dancing around his questions as long as he was trapped in this infirmary. Not that he hadn't expected that, nor did he really think things would change when he finally healed. His last experience on Coruscant had taught him the power of politics, and Carth didn't trust any of them anymore... not even Aayla.

The soldier well remembered the court-martial he'd been facing just weeks ago. He wasn't about to believe their sympathy for what had happened to him was real. At least not yet. Not until he was told the whole story.

And Carth intended to get the whole story. No matter how long it took or who he had to cross - he was fed up with being left out of the loop. After all he had been through, after all he had done for the Republic, he deserved to know the truth.

_"She's gone, Carth."_

He looked up to the ceiling again, pondering the words. What did they mean? But already the sedative was taking effect, and slowly he drifted off to sleep, one last coherent thought echoing through his head:

_She's not dead, she can't be. I'd know it if she was..._

* * *

Despite the exhaustion that dragged on Carth Onasi's every muscle, his strides down the long white corridor of the secure level were long and purposeful. The two lieutenants escorting him nearly had to jog to keep up. But it had been a full month since he'd first woken up in the infirmary, and now the powers-that-be were finally going to tell him what had happened on the Star Forge… what had happened to Revan.

Worrying over what had become of her had only been one of the reasons he hadn't slept well lately. Another reason – the one he could blame for his current state of exhaustion – was the nightmare. Night after night it was the same thing: Moriel and the girl in an apartment on Coruscant, and then they were ripped away, replaced by Revan screaming in his head about how he had abandoned her, and an overwhelming sense of despair and loss.

But the emotions he felt in the dream were not his. They were hers. And as twisted as it seemed, Carth now understood that even through all the agony, misery, and torture she'd made him suffer in the year since they first crashed on Rakata Prime, she had been protecting him. She had been watching him, carefully orchestrating events to eventually bring him back to her. That realization had come to Carth during his second week of confinement to the infirmary bed, and it had aroused a whole slew of sentiments.

At first he had been outraged at the thought he'd been manipulated so easily, then humiliated by the fact he'd been toyed with for so long without noticing the pattern. He'd been appalled by Revan's way of thinking – shocked that she could supposedly love him so much and yet stand idly by while he was robbed, enslaved, branded and tortured. But after another week of nothing else to do but think and several more sleepless nights, Carth began to understand on a different level. The woman he had fallen in love with, the woman who had come to love him, still existed. She had given in to her ambition and fear, embracing the Dark Side, and its power had slowly corrupted her, twisting her mind and making her cruel. His first refusal to join in her quest for galactic domination had wounded her deeply. The dark part of her had wanted to punish him for his defiance, but she had never been able to kill him as she had the others. Instead she had sent him off to Nar Shaddaa to live in misery while she kept watch from afar and pulled the proper strings to keep him alive but suffering. It was the only compromise the two warring sides of her could make.

Still, she had always wanted him to join her. He could unmistakably feel that in the pain that emanated from her in her last goodbye. Her plan had always ultimately been to have him at her side, no matter what she had to do to get him there. Except… he had still resisted her, even after her year of trying to make him see her point of view. And then the Star Forge had been irreparably damaged, and all her carefully-laid plans had been shattered.

And somehow… she blamed him. She blamed him for the destruction of the automated space station, and consequently all the things that took place afterwards. She believed he had betrayed her once again, and the grief she felt at that possibility rivaled his own reaction to learning she had reassumed the title of Dark Lord of the Sith.

It was all starting to make sense now. Why she hadn't killed him on the beach, why she had spared Telos, Vogga the Hutt's contract deal, Veeren Siege appearing in Fleet Headquarters, the visions in the Korriban tomb… all leading to a single end. Only a few questions were left to be answered. What had really happened to the Star Forge? Why did Revan blame him for it? Where was she now? And why did he feel like a part of her was still in his head? Why wouldn't the nightmares stop?

Carth quickened his steps, eager to finally get some answers. He fast approached the conference room where the debriefing was to be held, ignoring the slight twinge in his right side that protested his ever-increasing pace. It was going to take him months of physical therapy to get back into ideal condition, and even after that Dr. Beckett cautioned against long periods of strenuous activity, reminding Carth that despite his right lung's "miraculous" regeneration, almost half the tissue would never regain full functionality.

The Captain clenched his jaw at the thought. _I should see if they know where Bastila is, as well. I sure wouldn't mind a little payback…_

He slowed as he neared the door to the conference room, knowing everyone else was already inside. Carth felt suddenly nervous; an after-effect of how the debriefing had gone down the last time he'd been in this situation. But now he was determined not to let himself be bullied.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then ran a hand through his hair and straightened the jacket of his newly-pressed uniform. He squared his shoulders, stepped forward, and knocked curtly.

"Come," said a voice from within.

Carth pressed the door's control; it whirred open and he stood facing a room full of staring eyes. The Captain was not surprised to see that those now staring at him included Case Officer Aayla and Jedi Master Alex Faxx. He _was _surprised, however, to see the other chairs surrounding the gleaming black table were occupied by Admirals Gina Kupik and Ric Ostuda, and none other than Rear Admiral Nigel Riffman. Carth had never met Admiral Kupik or Admiral Ostuda personally, nor had he yet had the pleasure of serving with them. But he had watched enough HoloNet broadcasts on Nar Shaddaa to know the two of them were now without doubt the main leaders of the war against Darth Revan.

He saluted stiffly, feeling very out of practice, and swallowed in a dry throat.

"At ease, Captain," Admiral Ostuda said, his deep voice a perfect match to his aged but dignified features. "Come in, have a seat."

Carth did so reluctantly, leaving his escorts behind and refusing to acknowledge the ripple of foreboding in his gut. He stepped inside the small room, but as the door slid closed behind him, the sense of being trapped gripped him like a living thing. He tried to shake it off, moving around to an empty seat opposite the others and easing down into it. _It's different this time_, he reassured himself. _They didn't interrogate me, they didn't lock me up, they even gave me a uniform… I just need to relax; I can get through this…_

His thoughts were interrupted by Admiral Kupik. She was a rather severe-looking woman, her sharp features only intensified by the upswept manner in which she kept her wild red hair. "Captain Onasi," she began. "As you know, we have summoned you here today to discuss the events surrounding the destruction of the space station known as the Star Forge, and your involvement in those events."

He nodded. "Yes, Admiral."

She briefly scanned the screen of a datapad sitting on the table in front of her, then pushed it aside and intertwined her long fingers, leaning forward. "Why don't you start by giving us a detailed report of your mission?"

Carth blinked, taken off guard by the suggestion. He had expected to be filled in on what he didn't know, not asked about what he did know. He had already turned in a full mission report, after all – being confined to a bed for weeks had given him plenty of time for that. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, noticing uncomfortably how the Jedi Master watched him. "With all due respect, Admiral," he said carefully, "I've already included everything I remember in my mission report, which you can find –"

"I have it right here," Kupik said, tapping the datapad beside her while her bright blue eyes continued to bore into him. "I've read your mission report, Captain Onasi. Now I would like to hear it from you personally."

Carth's mouth dropped open, his mind working to understand. But in the end he really had no choice. Unless he wanted to increase their suspicions, it was best just to play along and hope he could manage to stay one step ahead of them. He gave a nod in consent. "Of course, Admiral." And then he began yet another retelling of mostly everything that had happened since he'd accepted the assignment to go after Revan. He left out a few choice parts, of course, and twisted the truth a little in some places, but as a whole his story sounded completely believable, and exactly echoed what he had put in his formal report. A short silence followed the end of his tale, and Carth waited patiently for someone else to say something. He wasn't about to freely volunteer anything more.

"Captain Onasi," Admiral Ostuda finally spoke up, "I thought it was made clear to you that your primary objective was to terminate Darth Revan?"

Carth looked down to his hands. "Yes sir, it was."

"And you, in fact, specifically requested to be assigned such a task, did you not?"

"Yes sir, I did."

The elder man glanced down to his own datapad, then back up to Carth. "It seems to us, Captain, after reading your mission report and hearing you recount the events yourself, that you had several opportunities to carry out your primary objective. And yet you repeatedly failed to take advantage of those opportunities. Would you care to explain this?"

Carth felt his heart drop into his stomach. He looked up across the table and saw the two Admirals watching him expectantly. Nigel had leaned back in his chair, a deep frown on his face. Master Faxx wore no expression, but his gray eyes were sharp and probing. Aayla stared at the datapad in front of her, a pained look on her delicate features. Carth took a deep breath and brought his focus back to Admiral Ostuda. He still had no intention of telling them his real reasons, but maybe a half-truth would be convincing enough…

_It had better be convincing enough_, a voice chimed in his head. _Otherwise you're going to wish Revan had just left you for dead…_

* * *

Aayla watched Carth exit the conference room, and as the door eclipsed his quickly retreating back, she released a quiet breath and sank back into her chair. The debrief had not gone as well as she had hoped, and she guessed Captain Carth Onasi felt the same. But there was nothing she could have done. It had been her plan, and Carth's mission, and now both of them had to deal with the consequences of how things had turned out.

There was a long silence after Carth's departure, until at last Admiral Ric Ostuda cleared his throat. "Well?" he demanded into the heavy quiet. "Do we proceed with the plan or pull the plug?"

The other four looked at each other, and when no one else opened their mouth to volunteer, Master Faxx shifted in his chair and began, speaking carefully. "The Captain is definitely hiding something. His mind was guarded and wary. But I sensed no malice in his intentions."

"And just what the hell does that mean?" Admiral Ostuda asked.

"Whatever Captain Onasi might have been hiding from us," Master Faxx explained patiently, "he did not mean to deceive. His purpose in withholding information was, in his judgment, for his own protection. I sensed no plans for subterfuge or betrayal."

"You don't think he could have been hiding those from you as well?" Admiral Kupik asked pointedly.

The barest of smiles hinted at the corners of the Jedi's mouth. "Captain Onasi is not adept enough at hiding his emotions to conceal something of that magnitude."

"Were you able to sense what he wasn't telling us, then?" Admiral Kupik wanted to know.

Master Faxx shook his head. "Not specifically, no. However, the Captain became most uncomfortable when referring to the conversation he had with Darth Revan upon the Star Forge. I would assume, then, that he is not telling us all that happened at that point in time."

Another silence followed the Jedi's words, and then Admiral Kupik glanced around the table to each of the others. "Should we order an official interrogation?" the woman asked, then looked over to Aayla. "I trust your people could get the information out of him one way or another?"

Aayla had to try very hard to keep her expression neutral as she opened her mouth to reply. But Master Faxx spoke before she could.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Admiral. As I mentioned before, whatever Captain Onasi might be withholding, treachery is not his intent. He still sees himself as a soldier of the Republic, and therefore his loyalties still lie with us."

"You're absolutely sure about that?" Admiral Ostuda spoke up, leaning forward over the table in interest.

The Jedi nodded sagely. "Yes. I'm sure."

"Well then… what do we do with him?" the elder man inquired.

"Stick to the plan," Aayla urged.

"The Republic needs a hero," Master Faxx agreed. "Perhaps now more than ever. Someone the people can look to for hope, courage, and strength. Someone to embody what the Republic is all about."

"The people are clamoring for answers," Aayla added quietly. "And the HoloNet is awash in nothing but rumors and heresy. Now is the time to set the record straight."

Admiral Kupik was nodding in agreement. "Investigator Surra is right. The HoloNet has already leaked reports of Captain Onasi's involvement in the destruction of the Star Forge. And much of the Republic recognizes him from his previous actions in the Mandalorian Wars. So why not take advantage of the situation?"

Admiral Ostuda rubbed his chin, his eyes drifting toward Rear Admiral Nigel Riffman, who had said nothing since first arriving at the conference room. "Admiral Riffman?" the elder officer prodded. "You've spoken up for Carth Onasi's character many times during the course of this whole messy Revan business. And you've also known the Captain longer than any of us. I'm interested in hearing your opinion on Jedi Master Faxx's observation."

Nigel straightened his shoulders at the question, then drew a deep breath and said, "Yes, sir… I've known Carth for many, many years now. And if there's one single thing I've come to know about him in that time, it's that he doesn't do anything without good reason. No other living person could have made it as far as he did on that space station. And maybe he didn't kill Darth Revan when he was supposed to, but… I can't help but think that he had something to do with her sudden disappearance. It just seems too convenient to be mere coincidence.

"You want my opinion, sir? Carth Onasi deserves a promotion. He deserves recognition for his actions, because no matter which way you look at it, he was the one who toppled the first stone in the wall of Darth Revan's empire."

Aayla nodded at Admiral Riffman's words. She had already come to much the same conclusion herself, but was glad to know someone else agreed. The Twi'lek sent a subtle glance in the direction of the two Admirals and was pleased to see them seriously contemplating Riffman's point of view.

"Very well, then," Admiral Ostuda continued after a moment. "Decided by unanimous opinion: we stick to the plan. I'll make the necessary arrangements and inform Captain Onasi first thing in the morning."

* * *

Carth stormed into his appointed quarters after leaving the debriefing, and as soon as the door had shut behind him, swung around and punched the wall. Pain lanced through his hand at the impact but the soldier bit back the cry and growled out a string of curses instead, shaking out his fist as he stalked across the room.

His glare caught on a decorative vase resting on the table next to the lounge couch; Carth snatched it up and threw it against the opposite wall, ignoring the noise and the mess as it shattered. But the destruction only mildly satisfied him. In the state he was in, he would have to completely demolish the room to even begin to quell the raging frustration that burned within his chest.

Carth shook his head, also knowing such a rampage would attract much unwanted attention, and many unpleasant questions. So instead he unbuttoned the jacket of his uniform and shrugged out of it, tossing it onto his bed in disgust and starting to pace like he always did when upset or confused. He ran his hands through his hair, still fiercely muttering curses.

_Well that was flaming fantastic, wasn't it?_ he snapped at himself. _You made yourself look like a complete fool! You swore not to let them bully you, then just sat there like an idiot and let them push you around, let them corner you into saying exactly what they wanted you to say! For stars' sake, Onasi, they didn't even tell you what happened! And why didn't you ask? Why didn't you ask!?_

A weak groan escaped Carth's throat and he sank down onto the couch, his head in his hands. He'd waited so long for answers… that was all he'd wanted… and now he'd missed another opportunity to get them.

_I'm too damned cowardly to demand they tell me about Revan_, he thought miserably. _I'm too afraid of what they might think, what they might say…_

_Well, it doesn't matter now, anyway. _He slowly lifted his head to sullenly regard the uniform jacket sprawled across his mattress. _They're going to resume the court-martial. I know they are. But maybe it's better this way…_

"_I just wanted you to see how much they have cost you, and how much I could offer you… I loved you, Carth. I needed you! And you betrayed me… you left me… you abandoned me for them!" _

Carth squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of Revan's words. He didn't want to think about her. He didn't want to think about how he had screwed up during the debriefing. He didn't want to think about the court-martial, or what might happen as a result of it. He just didn't want to think at all anymore. He wanted to drown himself in a decanter of Corellian brandy and forget everything.

Unfortunately, general access to alcoholic beverages was restricted at Fleet Headquarters, and given Carth's health status, he had no doubt he would be denied any request he made for such drinks. He ran his hands over his face, then stood from the couch and made his way wearily to the refresher station, resigning himself to a cold shower instead.

_Just let them get it over with_, he told himself. _Then you can get your answers, and whatever they may think of you be damned._ He started the water in the shower and began peeling off the other articles of his uniform. _And then… then you can drown yourself in enough Corellian brandy to forget this whole, horrible, miserable year ever happened…_

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	33. Beginnings and Endings

**A/N:** Wow, this chapter was a pain in the butt! Sorry it took so long for me to post! Kudos and an immense amount of gratitude to my fabulous beta Rian Sage, and to Kendoka Girl (previously Alice the Raven) for her incredible amount of help regarding all the military hoopla in this chapter. I couldn't have finished out this fic (realistically, anyway) without her council. Thanks again both of you! And much appreciation to all the readers who've stuck with this story for so long, I hope you enjoy the rest of it!

* * *

**Beginnings and Endings**

Canderous Ordo paced the bridge of the _Guardian_, his steely gaze divided between the screen of the communications console and the sight of his fleet in orbit around Kessel. Darth Revan had stationed him here months ago, determining that Kessel was a planet too valuable to be left guarded by those less-trusted than he. It was also a strategically solid position to keep an eye on Revan's other Outer Rim territories, and lately Canderous had been very busy doing just that.

In fact, the fleet still orbiting Kessel was now merely a third the size it had once been, due to the increasing attacks of the Republic on Revan's Outer Rim holdings. Canderous had been forced to send out some of his ships to aid the Dark Lord's other fleets on more than one occasion, and none of those ships had managed to return.

And _that_ was a very worrisome thing. A thing made worse by the fact that no one had heard from Darth Revan in over three weeks. Canderous had tried to contact her numerous times on every frequency he knew, including those she had only divulged to him and Bastila. He had received no answer to any of his hails or messages, and his concern grew with each passing day.

He had heard of the destruction of the Star Forge, but also knew that Captain Medan had made contact with Revan after the explosion. The Dark Lord had escaped that devastation, and had called for a shuttle and a mechanics crew from the surface of Rakata Prime. Then, after the _Ebon Hawk_ had been repaired from its most recent rough landing, Revan had apparently boarded it, taken off… and then simply disappeared.

Canderous didn't understand it. Her source of infinite ship resources had been destroyed, yes. But he knew without doubt the woman was still very capable of continuing a successful campaign against the Republic. Her battle techniques were brilliant; so clever and abrupt that her fleets rarely took losses in any skirmish. She didn't _need_ an Infinite Fleet to rule the galaxy, and Canderous didn't believe she had depended on such a thing so heavily as to abandon her troops as soon as the Star Forge was destroyed. There had to be another reason… and yet he couldn't for the life of him think of what it might be.

But then he remembered the stories that had circulated from the survivors of the Star Forge about who had come aboard the space station shortly before its demolition. _Carth Onasi._ The name drifted through his head without invitation and Canderous scowled. He had never had much respect for that man. The Republic soldier certainly hadn't deserved a woman like Revan. What she could have possibly seen in him…. The Mandalorian cut off such thoughts, knowing they were useless. _Onasi is weak, and a fool. Revan knows that. She wouldn't leave an empire behind to join him…_

The tiniest doubt tickled the back of his mind, but Canderous crushed it by reminding himself that such an unthinkable thing – if it had indeed happened – would have been blasted all over the HoloNet. And he'd heard nothing of the sort. The only thing on the broadcasts these days were conspiracy theories about the "possible destruction of Darth Revan's rumored space station", speculation as to Captain Carth Onasi's true involvement with Revan, and war updates. None of which interested Canderous Ordo. But he still had a daily feed routed to his quarters on the _Guardian_, because he still hoped to hear something someday that might give him a clue as to Revan's current whereabouts. A rumor, an offhand comment – he would have preferred anything over the torturous existence of knowing nothing. But not even the HoloNet broadcasters had dared touch the subject of Darth Revan's mysterious absence, and so Canderous was left to wonder, and guess, and worry.

He sighed heavily and turned toward the communications console as it chimed a warning for an incoming message. The plain features of Captain Medan materialized on the screen.

"Admiral Ordo," the man greeted crisply, snapping off a salute that gave no sign of the exhaustion clearly reflected in the Captain's eyes. "You wanted to speak with me, sir?"

Canderous nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting – saluting was a Republic soldier habit – and raised his gaze once more to the sphere of Kessel swarming in the viewport. "Yes, Captain. I'd like a daily report from each of the fleets in your area, starting at 1700 today. I want the status and condition of all ships, a full roster of their personnel compliments, records of the Captains' logs, navigation logs, and communication logs, and a relay of all activity in each sector."

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

"And I want special attention paid to any unknown frequencies noted in the communications records," Canderous added.

"Yes, sir." The Captain hesitated for a brief second, then said, "Sir… do you think Lord Revan…"

"I don't know," Canderous snapped, dropping his eyes back to the comm screen and fixing the other man with a glare. "Has she contacted _you_?"

Captain Medan shook his head, swallowing hard. "No, sir. No, sir, she hasn't."

Canderous grunted at the man's answer, not surprised. Revan tended to give direct orders only to her top three subordinates: himself, Bastila Shan, and the old woman Kreia. At first Canderous had been reluctant to admit he'd heard nothing from Revan, afraid it might be seen as a sign of weakness, a sign of falling into disfavor with the Dark Lord. But after a week of silence it had been impossible to make any more excuses for the lack of new orders. Then the rumors of her sudden absence had spread quickly throughout the Kessel fleet, and soon reached the armadas posted at even the furthest reaches of her growing empire.

Oddly enough, the news had not sparked a bloody battle for control as Canderous had feared. Instead, Revan's disappearance seemed to freeze everyone in place. No one was eager to move, or even engage in battle, without Revan's guidance. They had tried to locate Bastila, Darth Revan's official second-in-command, but after speaking with the captains of the ships that had survived the Second Battle of the Star Forge, it was determined Bastila had gone down with the space station.

Therefore, the remaining forces of Revan's military had turned to him for leadership. A role that Canderous had reluctantly accepted, although he still retained a fierce belief that Revan would return shortly. And that belief made him cautious in his strategies, a trait he normally did not express, and truthfully was not very good at. But he didn't know what else to do except maintain Revan's already claimed territories and wait for her to return. If he could just hold them long enough…

"What about the old woman, Kreia?" Canderous asked suddenly. "Has anyone heard from her?" He had never liked the ex-Jedi, but knew that Kreia had often advised Revan on various things. It was possible the old crone knew something the rest of them didn't.

"No, sir, not that I know of," Captain Medan answered. "But I will be sure such information is also included in my report. If any soldier from my quadrant has received communications from Lord Revan or Kreia, you'll know of it, sir."

Canderous gave the man another curt nod. "See that it's done. Ordo out." He cut the transmission, then resumed his pacing, hands clasped behind his back.

_Why wouldn't she have told me where she was going?_ His thoughts continued as if the conversation with Captain Medan had never happened, coming back to the question that bothered him the most. Bastila may have been Revan's second-in-command by name and rank, but the Dark Lord had made it obvious to Canderous many times in the course of the past year that _he _was the one she most trusted. She had frequently talked exclusively with him about tactics and issues unknown to anyone else… had admitted to him her most private of secrets. A secret he had been guarding for almost seven months now, and would continue to guard until she told him to do otherwise. He had often taken solace in the fact he was Revan's sole confidant, especially when having to deal with Bastila's arrogance or the rumors of Revan's plan to eventually convert Captain Onasi.

_But neither of them knew_, Canderous thought absently, hardly recognizing the flicker of pleasure that statement brought him. _Despite Bastila's power in the Force, despite Revan's inexplicable feelings for Onasi… she never told either of them. I'm still the only_ _one she truly trusted, the one she relied on the most… the lone guardian of Revan's heir._

The Mandalorian stopped pacing, turning to face the dull orb of Kessel once more, and straightened his shoulders. _But isn't that how it should be? I was loyal to her from beginning to end. Those other cowards all betrayed her at some point or another. They didn't see her genius, her power, her potential…._

Canderous clenched his jaw against the sudden emotion that gripped his chest. She had entrusted him with so much; why wouldn't she have told him she was leaving? The implications of her silence, however much he tried to ignore them, were grave. Still, he refused to believe he had simply been used, or that Revan had abandoned them, or that she had betrayed her own fleet. He knew Revan… she wouldn't simply disappear and leave her troops at the mercy of the Republic. There was a reason for her absence – a good one – and someday she would return. Someday soon. He was sure of it. He just had to keep things in order until then.

A series of flashes in his peripheral vision drew his attention toward the outer edges of the blockade around Kessel. Canderous squinted across the distance of space and swore he saw the familiar outlines of Republic cruisers. The brightly-colored flashes of exchanged cannon fire that followed this realization quickly confirmed his suspicions, and Canderous felt a blast of rage jolt through him. He stepped toward the communications console with a snarl, but before he could key in a frequency, its speakers burst with static and a strained and breathless voice came through:

"Admiral Ordo, this is Captain Adai of the _Protector_ reporting in – we're under attack, sir! Six Republic cruisers came out of nowhere, sir, almost right on top of us – they opened fire all at once… we've engaged them, but took heavy damage before we could raise the sh–"

Captain Adai's voice vanished in another burst of static, and then another flash of light burst across the _Guardian_'s viewport, nearly blinding its Mandalorian commander. Canderous staggered backwards, throwing an arm over his eyes, and the warning blare of klaxons bit into his ears. By the time he had recovered his wits enough to shout out orders for evasive maneuvers to his helmsman, the bow of a Hammerhead-class capital warship had already filled his vision.

The _Guardian_ shuddered mightily as the Republic ship opened fire from point-blank range, and Canderous caught himself on the bulkhead just before losing his footing. Some of the other bridge officers were not so fortunate; their cries of surprise as they rolled across the floor joined the noise of the klaxons. Canderous rounded on the ones still left standing.

"Raise the shields!" he barked, gesturing with one hand to emphasize the order. "Return fi-"

But before the second command could leave his mouth, the bridge exploded into light and flame, and Canderous was vaguely aware of flying through the air before everything he knew went black.

* * *

Kreia's eyes suddenly snapped open; her hand reached out and abruptly silenced the soft, incessant beeping of the comm unit. The Dark Lord's idiot subordinates had been trying to contact her endlessly over these past few weeks, but the former Jedi had no intention of answering their hails. They were all useless fools, made all the more worthless by their inability to act without Revan's guidance. There was no use in aiding them now; their battle against the Republic had been lost as soon as the Dark Lord had abandoned them. 

The old woman muttered a curse as she powered up the starfighter's engines and hyperdrive. The control panel before her flickered to life, highlighting her lined and sunken face with an eerie glow. She had guessed Revan's plans as soon as the woman had disappeared without a word from Rakata Prime, but since then hadn't been able to come to a solid conclusion about the Dark Lord's true motives.

Why Revan would want to leave her empire behind at this point in time – when it very well needed her the most - to go confront an enemy of unknown and surely unsurpassable power was beyond any of Kreia's reasoning. It was near suicide, as far as she was concerned, and she doubted very much that her old student would ever return from the depths of the Unknown Regions if she truly did go in search of the Sith.

The whine of the hyperdrive filled the cockpit as Kreia quickly plotted a course in the nav-computer. Her days of meditation and searching through the Force had paid off at last; the old woman had finally found a traceable trail of Revan's Force signature despite the Dark Lord's obvious attempt to suppress it, and Kreia had no intention of allowing Revan to carry out her reckless plan. Not when they were so close to toppling the Galactic Republic once and for all.

And so Kreia would go to Malachor V, where she sensed Revan was now, and hopefully intercept the woman before she got in over her head. But if the Dark Lord would not be swayed from her path of destruction… well then, Kreia had never been one to rely on someone else to get the job done. She had her own plans to attend to.

_Malachor V, how fitting_, Kreia thought wryly. _That's where it really all began for Revan, so many years ago. And where it all ended. Perhaps it will once again be a place for beginnings._ A cold smile twisted her withered lips as she engaged the hyperdrive. _Or perhaps it will remain a place for endings._

* * *

Carth Onasi paced a line across the living area of his appointed room in Fleet Headquarters, stopping every now and then in front of the full-length mirror to frown at his reflection. He looked like hell. Worse than he had on Korriban, even. The month of bed-rest hadn't helped his complexion, and his anxiety and impatience during that intolerable stretch of time had made it nearly impossible for him to eat properly. As a result, his uniform was now two sizes smaller than it had once been. His face was drawn and gaunt, and his eyes… Carth turned away from the mirror and resumed his pacing. Even he didn't like the look in them these days. There was something there now that hadn't been there before. Something shadowed and deep, something he didn't like. He wondered if the others could see it too. _How could they not?_ he thought bitterly, and then jumped as the door chime sounded. 

Carth scowled at his edginess, but moved for the door to open it. He already knew who it was. He had received a summons from Admiral Ostuda himself bright and early that very morning, and being that it was a mere fifteen hours after the debriefing he wished he could forget, Carth had a good idea the summons had something to do with the future of his military career. The knowledge did little to lift his mood; he barely acknowledged his two escorts as one of them began a brief explanation of their purpose. Instead of listening, Carth stepped past them and made for the turbolift on his own, cutting off the lieutenant's droning monologue as surely as if he'd shot the much younger man in the chest. The two rushed to catch up with Carth, and though they were obviously agitated by the Captain's brusque manner, they remained silent for the rest of the journey to Admiral Ostuda's office.

The Admiral – along with all other high-ranking Republic officers – had been granted a workplace on one of the very top levels of Fleet Headquarters; a room that in and of itself would have dwarfed most average-sized Coruscanti apartments. Beyond the first set of double doors nestled a quaint secretary's office, where the neat and trim woman behind the desk gestured Carth to take a seat and dismissed the two escorts. Carth sat down reluctantly, trying to keep his eyes focused on the immaculate cleanliness of the dark blue carpet instead of the next set of double doors, which had been constructed of natural wood and engraved with the seal of the Republic Navy.

He swallowed hard, smoothing over his uniform jacket for the millionth time, and his eyes wandered from the blinding shininess of his boots to the room's ridiculously high vaulted ceilings, then back down to the secretary at her desk. She abruptly looked back to the computer terminal in front of her and resumed typing as if she had never stopped. But Carth peered at her for a moment longer, wondering if she could possibly know something he didn't.

_No, impossible. Rumors, maybe, but nothing else…_

Carth shifted in the uncomfortable chair, turning away from the secretary, and sighed wearily. _For stars' sake, _I_ haven't even heard any _rumors_…._

"Captain Onasi!" a voice suddenly boomed cheerfully, and Carth sprang to his feet and snapped to attention before he'd fully registered the fact that Admiral Ostuda was striding out through the wooden doors.

"At ease, Captain, at ease," the Admiral said, crossing the room and extending his hand.

Carth accepted the handshake uncertainly and Admiral Ostuda clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make Carth wince. "Pleasure to see you again, my boy," the Admiral continued, then gestured toward the spacious room he had just exited. "Please, step into my office."

Carth nodded mutely and did as he was told, unsure of how to take the Admiral's abrupt change in attitude since the debriefing. The wooden doors slid shut silently behind them and Carth squinted in the bright morning light that slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view outside was breathtaking; a stretching sea of civilization that gleamed orange and pink and gold with the sunrise. But as beautiful as it was, Carth spared only a second to appreciate it before turning to face Admiral Ostuda.

The older man was nearly lost amid the wall of framed achievements, certifications, and a huge board of decorations. A flag of the Republic hung in one corner, a tank of glimmerfish bubbled in the opposite corner, and in between these rested a glass display case crammed full of an endless array of war trinkets and memorabilia. Carth shifted uncomfortably at the sight of it all. As much as Nigel Riffman's office had been designed for efficiency, Admiral Ostuda's office had been designed for show. Unnecessary show, in Carth's opinion – he had never understood why anyone would want to surround themselves with reminders of the hell the Republic had been through over the past few years.

_Or maybe they're just reminders of the fact we're still alive, even after all that's happened…_ The circular scar on his chest ached and Carth touched a hand to it absently. His gaze wandered back to the glimmerfish; on Alderaan the hatching of their spawn was considered a holiday for the celebration of life. He wondered for which reason the Admiral had chosen to put them in his office. Was it simply for their flashy metallic scales, or was it for their symbolism of life? He hoped it was the latter.

"Congratulations, Captain Onasi," the Admiral said, turning back to beam at Carth and drawing the soldier from his thoughts. He moved behind his massive wooden desk and opened a drawer, from which he took a small, square, velvety box. The man held out the parcel as if it were an offering of some kind. "You are a true hero of the Republic. We owe you a great debt of gratitude."

Carth stared at the other man.

"You went to the Star Forge to confront Darth Revan alone, without any concern for your own wellbeing," Admiral Ostuda explained, correctly interpreting Carth's expression of shock. "It was a very dangerous mission, Captain. But you accepted it and all its risks. Your actions saved the Republic. Because of you the Star Forge was destroyed, and Darth Revan's forces have been pulling back all over the galaxy. This is the beginning of the end for her fledgling empire, and you were the one who started its fall. So as I said, we owe you a great debt of gratitude. You're a hero, Carth, and we'll see that you are recognized as such."

The Admiral smiled and pulled the lid off the box, revealing a highly polished insignia pin.

Carth recognized it immediately: Rear Admiral, _Upper Half_. His heart began slamming into his sternum and he swallowed hard. "I… I don't understand," he managed to choke out.

Admiral Ostuda chuckled, gently setting down the box on the corner of his desk. "Don't underestimate yourself, Onasi. All the evidence is in your favor. Due to your actions both in the past and the present, it has been unanimously decided to award you this promotion. We've arranged a public decoration ceremony as well, two weeks from today. The people deserve to know exactly who it was that brought about the end of this war."

Carth opened his mouth, but could find no words. He eyed the insignia pin again, and then Admiral Ostuda's friendly features, and felt his insides twist. "Revan," he whispered, then cleared his throat and forced himself to look the Admiral in the face. "Revan is dead?"

The elder man's smile faded and he sighed heavily, moving around to his plush desk chair and sinking down into it. "We don't know," he admitted finally, and Carth had to try very hard to suppress his sigh of relief.

"We believe so, but there's no confirmation of it yet. However, we've had no direct contact with her since the Star Forge was destroyed. Her fleets have stopped advancing, and their battle tactics have become sloppy. We've captured several of her flagships over the course of the past two weeks, but have found no trace of any communications from her to them in the logs. At least, no communications after the destruction of the Star Forge. Which leads us to believe she was killed when the space station fell into Rakata Prime's star."

Carth stepped forward, about to mention the fact that it had been Revan who pulled him off the Star Forge before it broke apart, and therefore she couldn't have gone down with the station, but stopped himself at the last second. Because the truth was, he wasn't sure it _was _a fact. And in his formal report and the recent debriefing, he had claimed to know nothing about how he'd gotten off the Star Forge or how he'd been mostly healed from the lightsaber wound. To mention something to the contrary now could be seen as highly suspicious. His gaze dropped briefly to the insignia pin still resting so innocently in its box.

"Yes, Captain?" Admiral Ostuda asked, leaning back in his chair and fixing Carth with an expectant look. "Is there something you'd like to add to our conclusion?"

Carth straightened his shoulders and shook his head. "No, sir. Nothing, sir."

"You're certain?"

"Yes, sir."

"So then you agree Darth Revan could have been destroyed along with the Star Forge?"

Carth swallowed again; his throat suddenly very dry. "It's possible, sir." _It _is_ possible… I don't know that she was the one who got me off the space station. I only know she was the one who kept me alive. I _felt_ her… and I _heard _her…but was that before or after the Star Forge broke apart?_ "Sir," he spoke up without thinking, "what happened to the Star Forge? I know you said my actions led to its destruction, but… with all due respect, sir, I don't recall having anything to do with that."

The Admiral leaned forward over his desk, a strange little smile playing across his lips. "Why, Captain, you were the one who delivered the explosives right to Revan's doorstep. Without your bravery, we never would have gotten a detonator into the Star Forge's interior. And it would have been a much tougher fight trying to destroy it from the outside… as we learned from our first attempt a year ago." The elder man's face turned grim at the memory, but Carth was still reeling from what the Admiral had said.

"Detonator?" he repeated blankly.

"That's right, Captain. As I said, you accepted a very dangerous mission without any concern for your own wellbeing. You deserve recognition for that." He reached forward and tapped the side of the velvet box. "And we need your help. In fact, we're enacting a brevet promotion so that your new rank, as well as the authority that goes with it, becomes effective immediately. We can't afford to wait on the official paperwork; I want you to be my right-hand man when it comes to cleaning up the remnants of Revan's empire. After all, you know Revan's habits better than any of us. I'm sure you could offer some valuable insight into our offensive and defensive strategies."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Carth said, but it was a reflexive response. Inwardly he was still desperately trying to make sense out of what was happening.

"At attention, Captain."

Carth assumed the rigid stance automatically, fixing his eyes straight ahead on the display cabinet behind the Admiral's desk. Admiral Ostuda stood from his chair and picked up the velvet box, then removed the insignia from within. He stepped forward, pinned the new rank onto Carth's uniform collar, and saluted sharply.

Carth returned the gesture with equal fervor despite the numbing waves of disbelief that still shocked through his body.

Admiral Ostuda broke into a wide grin and relaxed his posture, then offered his hand again. Carth took it, noticing the older man's second handshake was even heartier than his first. "Congratulations, Admiral."

"Thank you, sir," Carth whispered, but could neither say nor do anything else. He just stood there, feeling wooden, feeling as if he had stepped out of reality by stepping into this office.

"We're in the process of finding you a good secretary," Admiral Ostuda went on, oblivious to Carth's confusion. "And believe me, you'll need one with as many people as will want you as their advisor. But until then, I've arranged for Tamela to help you out." The man nodded toward the wooden doors and the secretary's office beyond. "She'll show you where your office is and give you directions to your new apartment - compliments of the Navy, of course. At least, that is, until you're up on your feet again. It's the least we can do after all you've been through."

The Admiral gave Carth another teeth-jarring clap on the back, then steered him toward the double doors. "I'll let you have this week to get settled in and oriented with your new position and duties, but starting the week after, be ready to get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

Admiral Ostuda stopped and turned to face Carth. "You're dismissed, Admiral."

Carth stood at attention, saluted, then about-faced and marched from the room. Only after he stood in Tamela's office again and the doors had shut behind him did he begin to feel the full effect of what had just happened. He stumbled to the nearest chair and leaned on it, one hand absently going to finger the new insignia on his collar. It just didn't seem _real_…

"Admiral Onasi?"

The quiet feminine voice as well as the sound of that rank combined with his name shook him from his stupor; Carth straightened hastily and turned to face Ostuda's secretary.

The woman gave him an encouraging smile and rose from her desk, then walked over to meet him and handed him a datapad. "Here is the address of your apartment, as well as directions on how to get there. Any standard air taxi should be able to take you there no problem."

"Thanks." Carth took the datapad, glancing over its contents briefly before flicking it off and clipping it to his belt.

"And if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your office. The door is protected with a keycode, but of course you'll have to reset it after I let you in."

"Of course." Carth fell into step behind her, shaking his head. So she _had_ known something he hadn't. She'd known all along he was going to be promoted instead of court-martialed. And he couldn't help but feel, as he was led farther and farther down the brightly-lit, thickly carpeted corridors, that something was very, very wrong.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *

**Note:  
**_brevet:_ a document entitling a commissioned officer to hold a higher rank temporarily (but without higher pay); an honorary promotion of an officer.

In Carth's case, he is receiving the honorary promotion only until the paperwork and decoration ceremony makes him "officially" an Admiral.


	34. Choices

**Author's Note:** Many thanks as always to my brilliant beta Rian Sage! She's never let me down, and now here we are, so close to the end... I hope you all can bear with me, and thanks for reading! PS, since this fic obviously does not really follow strict canon, heh, I have taken some liberty with the message Carth left in T3.

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* * *

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**Choices**

Carth Onasi looked solemnly out the expansive window of his newly-appointed office. It was only half the size of Admiral Ostuda's, and contained a metal desk instead of a wooden one, but it was still a far cry better than anything he'd ever had in the past. Tamela had left him alone to contemplate the vast empty space after showing him how to reset the security passcode, but Carth hadn't bothered with that yet. He'd briefly inspected the room; other than the desk and chair, a small cabinet was the only other piece of furniture. Upon opening the cabinet, however, much to his delight, Carth had found a crystal decanter full of Corellian brandy and a note that read: _Congratulations! – Nigel_. The discovery was enough to make him smile for the first time in months, and he'd wasted no time in pouring himself a glass.

He let the warmth of the brandy ease his knotted muscles as he watched the blinding light of sunrise crawl across the skyscrapers and frowned in thought. _Nigel knew about my promotion, too. But it's only been sixteen hours since the debriefing. How could he have found out so quickly? In fact, how could they have made living arrangements so quickly? Unless they knew before… before the debrief? That makes no sense. Why grill me like that if they had already planned to promote me? And how did I not hear anything about it until this morning? It's not _that_ easy to keep secrets, not even in a naval base –_

"It's a little early to be drinking, isn't it, Admiral?"

Carth was startled by the sound of a voice and turned to see Jedi Master Alex Faxx standing in the doorway. "Not after the day I've had," he grunted, and took another sip to illustrate his point.

The Jedi smiled almost sympathetically. "I imagine it's a lot to take in so quickly."

"And you're here to pile on more, aren't you?" Carth asked, walking to his desk and setting down his glass of brandy.

"I apologize for intruding like this," Master Faxx offered, "but your door was open and I thought it might be best to speak to you now, before there are too many other demands for your time."

"Yah, that figures," Carth muttered. "You Jedi only show up when you want something." He took a seat in his plush office chair and fixed Master Faxx with a glare. "Well? What is it?"

The Jedi cleared his throat, ignoring Carth's jibe, and stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. He strode briskly across the room, then stopped in front of Carth's desk to look down at the new Admiral.

"I know Revan was the one who healed you," Faxx began bluntly. "And I know you know that. What I don't know is _why_ she healed you, and why you don't know where she is now."

Carth blinked at the Jedi, too taken aback by the words to fully grasp their meaning. "What?" he finally sputtered, having no idea what else to say.

Master Faxx took another step forward and leaned conspiratorially over Carth's desk. "I can _feel_ her within you, Onasi," the man whispered earnestly. "Like a residue left on your own Force aura. Such a thing is only left behind in specific and unusual circumstances. One of which is the act of powerful healing… of saving a life."

Carth remained mute, staring up into the Jedi's steady gray gaze.

"You know what I say is true. You saw the results of such a thing yourself between Revan and Bastila. The… _bond_… that developed between them was caused by the healing Bastila performed upon Revan at the Dark Lord's first defeat. It does not happen often. Truth be told, there are few Jedi among us who are powerful enough to restore a body as badly damaged as yours once was."

Carth remembered the dreams that Revan and Bastila had once shared… remembered his own recent nightmares, and his body grew cold.

"But Revan would certainly be capable of it," Faxx was saying. "The only question now is… why did she do it? Why would she risk it?"

Carth rose slowly from his chair and met the Jedi's pointed stare evenly. He could feel his heart throbbing in his throat, but there was nothing else to say at the moment except the truth. "Because," he said slowly, carefully, "there is still a part of Moriel Ithilio left in her. There's still a part of her that's good – that wants to come back to the Republic."

Faxx snorted, straightening from the desk and turning to pace across the office. "I thought you'd say that."

"It's the truth," Carth insisted defensively. "I was there. I saw it myself."

"And that's the _real _reason you never accomplished your mission objective, isn't it?" the Jedi asked, pivoting on one heel to face Carth again. "Couldn't bring yourself to kill her if there was a chance to save her?" The man shook his head. "A selfish mode of thought, Onasi. Not only did it nearly cost you your life, not only did it allow Darth Revan to escape us – once again – but if you had taken a moment to consider its impracticality…" Faxx sighed heavily. "Revan would never be accepted back into the Republic. Not anymore. She's betrayed us too many times, and the Council has lost too much to even consider another memory wipe."

"_You_ were the ones who sent her right back to the Dark Side!" Carth snapped, unable to help himself. "What could have possibly possessed you to steer her back down the very path that led to her fall in the first place I will never, _ever_ understand."

"At the time, the Council believed it was worth the risk –"

"And was it worth all the lives that were lost?" Carth demanded, gesturing toward the window as if to encompass the entire war. "Was it worth the life of a 14-year-old Twi'lek girl? Or the life of my 16-year-old son?"

"Carth –"

"What about all the other children who've been destroyed by the monster _you_ helped bring back?"

"We've all made mistakes," the Jedi broke in finally, raising his voice for the first time since Carth had met him. "Including _you_, Onasi. You had a chance to end all of it… but you didn't."

Carth scowled, turning away from Master Faxx to look out at the teeming Coruscanti traffic. He was as torn on that subject as he could now sense through their newly-established bond that Revan was about him: he hated himself for failing to kill her, for failing to end this terrible war once and for all. But another part of him shattered at the very thought of her death, of holding her limp in his arms again, of being deprived of her touch forever…

"It's not too late for you," Faxx said quietly. "The Jedi must live with the knowledge that their decisions have prolonged this war instead of ended it. We can do nothing to change that now. You, however, still have a chance to redeem your mistakes."

Carth glanced over his shoulder at the Jedi, suspicious.

Faxx explained. "You wouldn't be standing in this office right now if the Republic brass didn't believe you still have answers about Revan."

Carth scoffed. "Answers? What answers? Admiral Ostuda told me they think she's dead."

"But you don't believe that, do you?"

Carth turned back toward the Jedi Master and frowned. "No."

"Why not?"

"I… I don't know," he admitted finally.

"It's because of the bond," Master Faxx stated matter-of-factly. "That's how you know she's still alive. It enables you to sense her, to feel her, sometimes to share thoughts, feelings, dreams…" The Jedi walked slowly over to Carth's desk, and his gray eyes gleamed with an intensity that Carth found profoundly uncomfortable.

"You've been having nightmares, have you not?"

The question took Carth completely by surprise; he couldn't imagine how Faxx could possibly know about that. He had just opened his mouth to ask when the Jedi began to elaborate on his own.

"We monitored your vital signs for the whole of your stay in the infirmary, Onasi. _All_ of your vital signs, including brain wave patterns. And most of your patterns during sleep indicated dreams to which your body had severe physical reactions. We also noticed a level of brain activity that no non-Force adept should be capable of achieving." Master Faxx tilted his head slightly to one side. "Revan," he said ominously, "is reaching you in your sleep."

Carth blinked, thinking of all the things that had haunted him lately in the dark of night, the way he now so strangely seemed to understand the reasons behind everything Revan had done to him over the past year, and swallowed hard. The blood drained from his face; his hands gripped the back of his chair tightly enough to turn his fingers white.

"Now you understand," Master Faxx said gravely. "You understand why we need your help, why you're so important to us. Why you have the chance to fix your mistake on the Star Forge. And why it is strange that Revan would have risked healing you as she did. She knew better than anyone what the effects of the resulting bond could be. She knew you might be able to sense her… to see her… wherever she went, no matter what…"

But Carth was no longer listening. He was remembering the Coruscanti apartment he had seen in his delirium of pain, and Moriel looking up at him with those clear blue eyes, and the girl on the floor playing dejarik… the girl… were the feelings for the girl his or Revan's, or both of theirs? And why did he so desperately feel that she was real, and not just some figment of a future he feared to even hope for?

"Admiral?"

Carth jolted back to the present, his eyes refocusing on the Jedi in front of him.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded stiffly, then cleared his throat. "Yes. Yes, fine." He reached for his brandy and downed the rest of it, then moved over to the decanter to refill the glass.

"Carth, we need to know what you've been seeing. If we can find Revan and kill her –"

Carth barked laughter, startling Master Faxx into silence. The soldier turned to face the Jedi and shook his head. "And who exactly is going to kill her, Master Jedi? You? Others of your Order? Someone from Republic Special Forces? Because last I heard, all those people have already tried and failed, and that's why you needed _me_. And I… I'm not going back out there. Not for that. Not again."

A brief silence stretched over the office as Master Faxx took in what Carth had said. Carth stared into his brandy, unwilling to meet the Jedi's eyes.

"At the rate we're going, the Republic will have reclaimed all of Revan's conquered planets within a few months," Faxx finally said. "She will no longer have an empire; no longer have an armada at her command; no longer have an unending supply of war machines. She will be alone, and alone she will be much easier to destroy."

Carth frowned into his drink, recalling the terrifying rage with which the Dark Lord had attacked Bastila, and thought that Master Faxx had no idea what he was dealing with when it came to Revan.

"You won't be the one to do it," the Jedi said softly in an attempt to be reassuring. "You just keep us up to date on what you see, what you sense, and we'll put it all together. We'll find her, and we'll end it."

_Or become her new apprentices_, Carth thought wryly, also knowing that Revan's persuasive power bordered on the supernatural. He had come very close to joining her himself, and more than once. Even now that he was back at Fleet Headquarters, in the heart of the Galactic Republic, the very institution he'd sworn loyalty to years ago and had spent his life defending, there was still a part of him that wondered if he had made the right choice. A flicker of the desire to remain with her no matter what she had become still lived, hidden away in the deepest, darkest, vaguest corner of his mind. But he could still feel it sometimes, always strongest after waking from a dream about the blissful weeks he had spent aboard the _Hawk_ with Moriel. And it was always then that he struggled most: Stay with the Republic and accept the punishment for dereliction of duty, which he was sure they would charge him with, or leave for the unknown and search out Revan, to tell her he still wanted a future with her, that he wouldn't leave her again no matter what, to try again to save her. Because she was worth another try – she was worth a lifetime of tries. He _had_ seen the face of Moriel before being swallowed into blackness on the Star Forge. He'd sensed her since then, too, through Faxx's so-called bond. And if she was there, she could be reached…. He just needed to find a way…

"Carth?"

The soldier started so violently the brandy nearly sloshed over the side of his glass.

"What is it?" Faxx asked cautiously. "What's wrong? What have you seen?"

Carth recovered himself and shook his head again, moving toward the window. "Nothing," he said quietly. "Nothing's wrong. And I haven't seen anything." He wasn't about to tell the other man he'd seen himself and Revan as a family, with a daughter, living happily on this very planet…

"Be careful, Onasi," Master Faxx warned, and his tone caused Carth to turn. "I am a Jedi, and the Force reveals many things to me that are not spoken."

The soldier managed to keep his glare even, though his heartbeat quickened in anticipation. "Is that a threat, Master Jedi?"

"No. It is merely a fact. It is also a fact that you are still hiding something from us, and that your promotion and the appointment of this office were given under the assumption that you would cooperate in the search for Revan."

"Why would I not cooperate?" Carth asked, the only words he could manage to say while his mind raced with the new information Faxx had just given him.

"That is something only you can answer."

Another silence filled the spacious office as the two men glowered at each other. Master Faxx was the first to move, bending at the waist in a low bow. "I will leave you some time to think on your situation," he said, "and recall what you might have seen in those nightmares of yours." He straightened, giving Carth a look that could not be misinterpreted. "I'll be in touch, _Admiral_. Good day."

The man turned on his heel with a swish of his cloak, activated the door controls, and vanished through the doorway. As the door slid shut behind the Jedi, Carth downed the rest of his second brandy in one gulp and slammed the empty glass back to the cabinet with a curse. He ran his hands through his hair, facing the window once more. He kept being drawn to the window, to the sky… his eyes always going upward, toward space…

Carth sighed wearily, forcing himself to go back to his desk. But the bland scenery of his empty office did nothing to stem the wild flow of his thoughts. It was starting to make sense now, all of it; his promotion, the luxurious office, the apartment, the claim of needing him as an advisor. They _did_ need him, to a certain extent, but they also didn't fully trust him. They wanted to keep an eye on him, make sure he was under control, and take full advantage of the fact Revan had somehow forged a mental link between them.

"_The Fleet will never trust you on any important missions after this. They'll stick you behind a desk, and you'll become so restless with inactivity you'll have to leave."_

The words were in Dustil's voice, but Carth now knew they had originated from Revan herself. A bitter taste rose to his mouth; he hated to think she had been right, that she had known all along…

"_The Republic has abandoned you. They never came for you on Nar Shaddaa, and they won't come for you now. They won't take you back. Not after this."_

Carth put his head in his hands, feeling as if the world he had believed in for so long was slowly crumbling around him. The Republic _had _taken him back; they had even promoted him and lauded him as a hero instead of court-martialing him as he had feared. But he wasn't naïve enough to believe such treatment wouldn't come without a price. Even if he had not already suspected it, Master Faxx had made it perfectly clear: They believed he had answers about Revan's whereabouts. They _expected_ him to have answers about Revan's whereabouts. Carth had no doubt his situation would rapidly change if he failed to meet those expectations.

And then there was the issue of Revan herself. Carth massaged his temples with his fingertips, closing his eyes. He had never felt so lost. All his life he had been driven by a purpose of some kind: To protect the Republic, end the Mandalorian threat, find Bastila on Taris, destroy the Star Forge… kill Saul Karath. After Revan had betrayed him, after she had murdered the others, the desire for revenge had once again lit in his heart like a fire and consumed everything else. But then… then he had gone to the Star Forge and seen the real Revan behind the monster, the woman he had loved. She had saved him, and he'd felt her – her love, her grief, her inner torment.

And now, Carth felt empty. There was no more fire within him. There was just… nothing. His usual enthusiasm for his military career had been considerably dampened by the discovery of the true motives behind his promotion. He felt cheapened, used; just another pawn in a galactic power game he was never meant to understand.

And Revan… Revan was gone. Vanished, disappeared, how and why and where nobody knew. How was he supposed to find her now? He'd only been half lying when he'd claimed to have not seen anything. He _hadn't _been shown any clue as to where Revan might be now. Even if he had… would he give her up to the Republic? Did he _want_ them to kill her?

_No, no I don't_, Carth thought, and it was the only true certainty his mind could grasp at the moment. _I can save her, I know I can. If I could find her, I just need another chance… But how am I ever supposed to get that chance?_

He glanced around at his office, out the window, toward the door beyond which lie a great number of security measures and guards that prevented him from going anywhere without being noticed. Carth's fingers brushed the Admiral's pin on his collar again, and Revan's words came back to him. _"There's nowhere for you to go... nowhere for me to go. It _is_ too late for us, Carth. There's no turning back, not for either of us."_

He was only now beginning to realize how right she had been. He couldn't have both Revan and the Republic. He had to choose. Seek out Revan and be outcast forever from the very government he had sworn to give his life for, or accept the promotion to Rear Admiral, Upper Half and help bring down Darth Revan's empire… and eventually the Dark Lord herself.

Carth ran his hands vigorously over his face and groaned. The emptiness inside of him seemed to grow, swallowing his insides until he felt as if a black hole itself had sucked away all his feeling. He rose laboriously to his feet and moved over to the cabinet, pouring himself another brandy and hoping the liquor would help fill the yawning hole inside him, praying it would drown the overwhelming voices that called to him from all sides.

"_Congratulations… you are a true hero of the Republic…" _

"_I saved you! And you betrayed me… you abandoned me for them!..."_

"_You always did choose the Fleet over your family…"_

"_You've always wanted to do something great, something to make your life worthwhile, here's your chance… together we could accomplish so much more…"_

"… _no one knows Revan's habits better than you…"_

"_The Republic _used_ you. They wasted your life. They cost you your wife, your son, your home. You have nothing now because of them. And you owe them nothing…"_

"_I want you to be my right-hand man when it comes to cleaning up the remnants of Revan's empire… the people deserve to know exactly who it was that brought about the end of this war…"_

"_Both of us know millions of innocents died during the Mandalorian Wars, deaths caused by both sides. The Republic's hands aren't any cleaner than the Mandalorians' - or Malak's, or Revan's…"_

"_Come back with me, Carth. I can't do it alone; I need your help. Come back with me and live the life you really want… I loved you, Carth. I needed you! Why couldn't you just be with me? Why couldn't you just listen to me? Why couldn't you just love me?!"_

Carth closed his eyes and swallowed his drink.

* * *

Revan stood for a long time on the cracked and broken surface of Malachor V, staring across the rugged valley to the profile of the _Ebon Hawk _in the distance. Her heart squeezed at the thought of leaving it – but that was exactly why she had to do it. There were far too many memories on that freighter. They would only serve to distract her, to keep her trapped in the past, and she could not afford to be trapped or distracted when she entered Sith space.

Her eyes reluctantly left the _Hawk_ and roamed over the black and greenish landscape of Malachor. She had come to this planet to seek direction and strength, to center herself in the Force. Malachor was like a magnet for the Dark Side; a vortex of all the evil, betrayal, and death that had once happened on its surface and in its skies. She had reveled in it, soaking in its power as she meditated in the bowels of the Trayus Academy. Now she was ready. Ready to enter the Unknown Regions and find the true Sith. Ready to join them… or destroy them.

And she was going alone. No companions, no droids, not even the comforting and familiar _Ebon Hawk_. All alone. Like it should have been from the beginning. Revan took a deep breath of the noxious air and began her slow and winding descent from the butte she stood on. She had used the bluff many times over the past few weeks as a sort of viewing platform, using its height advantage to search the stormy sky for the ship she knew would eventually come.

But the old woman had taken longer than Revan expected, and she was tired of waiting. The Dark Lord picked her way back toward the small freighter; there were still a few loose ends to tie up. Namely HK-47 and T3-M4, the only company she'd permitted on her journey to this point. But now they would have to be left behind as well, and she still had to give them a few last orders.

Revan had almost reached the _Hawk _when she heard the sound of approaching thrusters. A knowing smile grew across her face and she stopped, turning to look up over her shoulder. A lone Sith starfighter descended through the blackish clouds, hovering smoothly despite the whipping wind, until at last it settled gently upon its struts mere feet from where Revan waited. The Dark Lord faced the ship, her smile fixed, as the canopy slid open and the pilot unbuckled their restraint harness.

"You're late," Revan said, watching Kreia climb down from the cockpit.

"You did an exceptional job of concealing your Force signature," the other woman replied coolly, seemingly not surprised to find the Dark Lord had been waiting for her.

"And yet you found me just the same."

Kreia reached the ground of Malachor and turned toward her former student. "You knew I would."

"I planned on it."

"Then why make it so difficult?"

"I needed time to meditate first."

Kreia folded her hands inside the sleeves of her robe. "So then you are still going through with it?"

Revan lifted one eyebrow. "Going through with what?"

"Your suicide mission."

The Dark Lord's smile widened at the description. "Of course," she answered lightly. She had known this conversation would happen just as surely as she'd known Kreia would track her to Malachor.

"And what of your empire?" the woman asked, her voice cutting through the wind. "The Republic has already reclaimed Barab I, Nar Shadaa, Kessel… it is only a matter of time before your other worlds fall too."

A momentary flicker of doubt crossed Revan's heart at the mention of Kessel. _Canderous…?_ She reached out for him unconsciously through the Force, but the distance was too great. She wouldn't be able to do it without meditating... but she didn't have time for such concerns right now, so she shoved away all thoughts of Canderous, his fleet, and what they were protecting.

"If you go, you will not return," Kreia persisted, filling the silence Revan had let slip between them. "This past year will have been a waste. Everything you worked so hard to build will be lost."

The Dark Lord gave the old woman a look from beneath her brows. "If I find what I'm looking for, it hardly matters," she said, and then turned away from her former Master and back toward the _Ebon Hawk_. "I'll be taking your fighter," Revan added over her shoulder. "And I'll leave you the _Hawk_ and the droids. I don't care what you do with them. Rule the galaxy yourself if you want to."

She felt Kreia's anger and frustration in a wave. "I told you this would happen," the woman called after her. "I told you he was your weakness – that it was a mistake to let him live. But you refused to heed my warning. And now look at what he has cost you! Your empire, your fleet, your Star Forge… you sulk out here on the Outer Rim, prepared to throw away your potential on some reckless gamble, while he sits in Fleet Headquarters and commands the armadas that are even now retaking your territories."

Revan drew up short.

"That's right," Kreia said, her tone dripping malice, "he was rescued from the beach of Rakata Prime, and crawled right back to his beloved Republic. The HoloNet is already polluted with stories that hail him as a hero; the one person most responsible for the downfall of your empire and the nearing end of the war."

The Dark Lord's fists clenched at her sides. She had known Carth was still alive; she had felt his presence many times during her meditations, but had refused to acknowledge him. His manipulations and betrayal were still heavy bruises on her heart, and to even think of him commanding a Republic armada when he had so stubbornly refused to join her own fleet… Her body trembled, an indefinable ache spreading through her chest.

"So you see," Kreia continued, "all your efforts were a waste. All that you have lost has been in vain. Carth Onasi has always been, and always will be, a slave of the Republic. You should not have saved him. Now he has won… and you are the one who has fallen."

Revan whirled around and struck out with the Force, hurling her former Master several feet into the air to slam against the broad wing of the starfighter and then crumple to the ground. The Dark Lord turned her back on the motionless heap of brown robes and stalked up the boarding ramp into the _Hawk_; the anger boiling inside of her only made her more anxious to leave. The sooner she found the source of the true Sith's power, the sooner she could return and set everything right again, the sooner she could make Carth see – really see – how weak the Republic was…

"HK?" she called as soon as she had entered the common area.

"Answer: Here, Master." The droid emerged from the corridor that led to the cockpit, and T3 followed closely after, giving a hoot of greeting.

Revan nodded to them in acknowledgment. "Good. It's time. Kreia has just arrived, and she's come in a starfighter. I'll be taking that when I go. Is everything ready here?"

HK's photoreceptors blinked even as T3 released a doleful string of beeps. "Answer: Yes, Master, everything is as you ordered it. Protest: However, I must express my deepest concerns regarding your safety should you refuse to change your mind about embarking into the Unknown Regions alone."

Revan shook her head. "No, HK. You're not going. And neither are you, T3."

The little astromech droid gave an indignant blurt, which Revan ignored. She went to the port dormitory and retrieved the synthesizer she had so painstakingly rendered portable and the tiny rucksack packed with bare essentials. She returned to the common area to find HK and T3 still standing in the same spot she had left them. She took a deep breath as she faced them.

"I'm leaving the _Ebon Hawk_ to Kreia," she explained. "But you two belong to no one. You're free to do whatever you wish. Stay with the old woman, kill her, go off on your own, I don't care. But don't try to follow me. From here I must continue on my own." Revan paused and swallowed hard. "Goodbye, HK. Goodbye, T3."

T3-M4 beeped a mournful farewell, and HK-47 straightened his durasteel frame. "Statement: I will make you proud in your absence, Master. When you return I shall have many glorious tales of violence and mayhem, and a much longer list of meatbags I have personally exterminated."

Revan granted the hunter-killer droid a smile. "I look forward to that day, HK." She glanced down to T3. "Take care of yourselves." With that she turned to leave, but she had hardly taken one step before the astromech droid gave a hoot behind her, and then a very familiar voice sounded throughout the _Hawk_'s common area:

"I thought you might try and leave us all behind."

Revan froze, going rigid, her heart plunging into her stomach.

"I could see it on your face when we last argued about going back to Dantooine, so I programmed T3 to play this message if you ever tried to strike out on your own. I figured you would tell the droids. Seems you trust them more than any of us these days."

Revan's breath stuck in her throat as she stiffly turned around to face Carth's hologram. Despite the fact it was just a recording, the poignant look in his dark eyes nearly broke her.

"Look, Moriel," he said, his tone softening, "I know things have been different ever since Korriban. But… I don't blame you for what happened to Dustil. He made his choices; he has to be held responsible for his actions. I just… I just feel like… you've changed, somehow. I can't explain it. I think it has something to do with all the time we spent at that flaming Sith academy…"

"T3," Revan whispered, her voice hardly audible. "Turn it off."

The droid twittered helplessly: he couldn't turn it off. Carth had programmed it that way.

"I knew we shouldn't have gone there," the soldier went on. "I knew it was a bad idea. Some of the things they made you do…" Carth trailed off, his eyes going far away. But then he shook his head, coming back to the present. "Anyway, Moriel, that's not the point. The point is that you don't need to leave. You don't need to do this on your own. We're with you… all of us. We're here for you. I… I just wanted to be sure you knew that. And I hope you remember it."

His image faded into nothingness and the common area plunged into deafening silence. Revan stood rooted to the spot, still staring at the place where Carth had disappeared. A powerful mix of emotions surged through her all at once. Anger, hate, grief, rage, loneliness, love… for one brief moment she wanted to reach out to him with her mind, to remind him of all the promises he had made and broken, all the words he had spoken and never meant, to make him feel the full weight of his betrayal…

She regained control of herself with difficulty and resisted the temptation. Instead she turned her back on the two droids and strode quickly toward the boarding ramp; her footsteps echoed in the corridor and drowned out T3's last somber chirp.

Revan stepped out onto the surface of Malachor V, noticing at once that Kreia had disappeared. But the Sith fighter remained, and the Dark Lord went straight for it, hardly registering the cloak that flapped around her legs in the wind, or the weight of the synthesizer tucked under her arm, or the heat of the tears that slipped down her cheeks. She climbed up into the small starfighter's cockpit, stowed her belongings under the seat, and powered up the engines. The canopy slid shut over her head; Revan typed in her randomized coordinates blindly, her thoughts still far away… with him…

She had worked so hard to show him, to convince him… she had felt his love for her, his desire to be with her, his want to 'save' her from the Dark Side when she had healed him… yet he had refused to join her, had betrayed her, had destroyed her plans…

In the frenzy of her memories Revan brought the fighter off the ground too fast; gravity shoved her down into her seat and a warning alarm sounded as the engines strained to keep up with her reckless ascent. The Dark Lord paid it no attention, rocketing toward space, her hands clenched in death grips around the steering yoke.

"I will show you," she snarled through gritted teeth as the Sith ship burned through Malachor's remaining upper atmosphere. "I will show you all." Everyone who had ever doubted her, questioned her, held her back, tried to tell her how to run her empire… She was going to find the true Sith, find the root of their power, and learn it for herself. Then she would come back to known space more terrible than ever before. She would rule it all. She would have it all. Including Carth Onasi.

The starfighter finally broke free of Malachor V and shot off into space. Revan engaged the hyperdrive and did not look back.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	35. To Be A Hero

**Author's Note:** I am SO sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I was distracted by many things, not the least of which was the release of Halo 3. My apologies, again. As usual this chapter would not be what it is without the fabulous effort, advice, and support of my beta Rian Sage. Many thanks to her as well as all of you readers and reviewers - your feedback and chapter hits are much appreciated! Hope you continue to enjoy these last few chapters of this story!

* * *

**To Be A Hero**

_It was a very strange feeling. Carth looked down upon his unconscious self, strapped into a medical bed he recognized as the one aboard the _Ebon Hawk_. His jumpsuit had a blackened, bloody hole through it over the right side of his chest; the skin beneath, however, was unbroken. Carth winced at the sight of it, but the ache he felt was not just a reaction to the wound. It was something else – something he didn't recognize – and then there was anger, intense anger… and the image of himself blurred, replaced by a thought that blazed through him like a beacon: Whoever was responsible for the Star Forge disaster was going to pay dearly for it._

"_Statement: I have a theory, Master."_

_The voice was unmistakable, and Carth's consciousness stirred at the sound of it. But he was quickly swallowed again by the swirl of unfamiliar memories, and curious despite himself, he stopped fighting against them._

"_Explanation: As you know, your apprentice Bastila Shan had several items removed from the starship known as the _Iridonian Star_… a certain Lieutenant Sanders discovered a miniscule energy reading emanating from one of the suits of armor… It appeared to be coming from somewhere within the armor, as if it were a modification of some sort… I had just finished eradicating the protocols established by the spike when the explosive device detonated… Conclusion: My central processor then determined that the source of the strange energy readings within the suit of armor must have been the cause for the explosion, and that the meatbag Sanders must have unwittingly set it off… that particular combat suit was found in a footlocker removed from the _Iridonian Star_. All items found in the footlocker were military-issue."_

_Realization shocked through Carth, an echo of the understanding he felt emanating through the foreign memories: Intelligence._

_As if reading his thoughts, HK-47's voice continued._

"_Statement: That is a logical determination, Master. It is likely a meatbag associated with Republic Intelligence would possess both the knowledge and skill needed to implant such a device."_

Damn you, Carth. Damn you! Why can't you see how they use you? Why can't you see through their lies?

_Revan's voice. Revan's thoughts. And then comprehension dawned on Carth like the sun over the oceans of Mon Calamari. Revan blamed him for the destruction of the Star Forge because he had brought the armor that contained the explosive device. Then the Republic fleet had shown up so shortly after its detonation… too shortly after. It had all been arranged, somehow. There was no other explanation._

_The briefing with Aayla's nameless agents on Korriban drifted back to him. _They_ had given him that armor… they had meant for him to _wear_ it…_

"_Because of you the Star Forge was destroyed." Admiral Ostuda's voice seemed to echo through his being, "… you were the one who delivered the explosives right to Revan's doorstep. Without your bravery, we never would have gotten a detonator into the Star Forge's interior…"_

_And suddenly Carth knew the truth. The whole, terrible, horrific truth. The Republic had betrayed him, used him, manipulated him the same as Revan had. Except in the end she had saved him, and they had planned his death behind his back. She had been right. She'd been right about everything, all along. He felt sick; the memories he'd been trapped in faded, then disappeared all together. He was left in a vast darkness, all alone..._

Carth awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed, looking around the room wildly, as if expecting some intruder. But when things remained quiet his senses slowly returned to him. He blinked hard, still trying to catch his breath in the wake of the nightmare, and cursed silently to himself. He'd had plenty of bad dreams of late, but never anything like what he had just experienced. He'd never _felt _Revan like that before… just the thought of it sent goose bumps racing down his arms.

He glanced at the chrono by his bedside and groaned. The sun wouldn't be up for another three hours. And as he was fresh out of Corellian brandy, which was about the only thing that could make him sleep a whole night through these days, Carth knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon. He sighed heavily, running his hands vigorously over his face, trying to wipe away the last remnants of the nightmare still clinging to his brain. It had seemed so real… No, it _was _real; courtesy of the Force-bond Revan had somehow forged between them when she'd healed him. He was sure of it. But if it was real, then that meant…

Carth's mouth went suddenly dry. The sheets tangled around his legs were damp with sweat and he threw them off in disgust, standing from the bed and walking barefoot toward the kitchen. The apartment was large and luxurious by Coruscant standards, and had the Navy not been paying for it, Carth wouldn't have been found anywhere near such a ritzy establishment. He reflected on that fact as he retrieved a glass of cold water from the food dispenser. His eyes wandered back through the wide and spacious living room toward the front door, outside of which two special agents stood guard. He'd found it ironic that a declared hero of the Republic should have guards outside his door.

They'd claimed it was for his own protection, of course, given what he'd been through this past year – given that Veeren Siege had once swooped in and snatched him straight from Fleet Headquarters. But Carth knew from the beginning that was all a load of bantha-crap. Siege had broken in to _Fleet Headquarters_ for stars' sake; he wouldn't break stride for two agents. No, the guards were there to keep Admiral Carth Onasi in. Or, at least, to help keep tabs on him if he did go out. But he didn't do much of that, either. The Republic brass had kept him very busy these past two weeks. Busy doing nothing. They assigned him pointless tasks, simple reports, and asked for his council on only the most mundane of war necessities. Meanwhile Jedi Master Faxx lingered at the edge of Carth's awareness, never intrusive but always present. The man had not spoken to Carth since just after Carth's promotion, yet he managed to make himself known in many other ways: passing in the hall, meeting in the turbo lift, a glance across the cafeteria, a nod from the doorway of a meeting.

Carth knew what the man wanted, but had nothing more to offer. He'd seen nothing of Revan's whereabouts or plans, nothing from her at all, in fact. Nothing… until tonight.

Carth swallowed down the rest of the water, but his stomach lurched at the thought of what he'd learned from the recent nightmarish glimpse into Revan's memories. He set his glass into the sink, then pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and took a deep breath. The tightness in his chest caused him to look down at the scar made by Revan's short blade, then to the slightly discolored skin on his left forearm where he'd had Vogga's brand removed just days before. After all she did to him in that year… even after he'd tried to kill her… she'd saved him.

And after all he'd done for the Republic, all he'd given them; they'd been prepared to sacrifice him without a second thought. They hadn't trusted him enough to do things on his own, to make his own choice. He'd never had a choice, in fact… not since Dantooine, when they'd ordered him to stay with "Moriel Ithilio" and help her on her mission. The Republic had been using him ever since. Using him to keep an eye on the woman they knew all along was Revan. Using _her _to find a way of stopping Malak. And when that plan backfired, they turned to him again, this time to get to Revan herself… to right _their_ terrible mistake. The events of the past year and nine months of Carth's life suddenly came into acute focus. He realized he had never been anything more than a tool, nothing more than a means to an end. He'd been strategically moved into place, directed onto a certain path, and would be effortlessly discarded when they were through with him. Just like they had so easily written him off during his enslavement on Nar Shaddaa….

He clenched his hands into fists and stalked back into the bedroom, activating the small communications console Aayla had given him the day he'd moved into this apartment. It was supposed to be used for alerts in case he was in danger, or in case he discovered any more about Revan. But Carth wanted answers.

It only dialed one frequency; within seconds Aayla's face appeared on the tiny screen, tired yet eager. "What's wrong?" she asked immediately, noticing the Admiral's sleeping attire and disheveled look.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Carth demanded at once, his voice gruff. "Why didn't you tell me you only wanted me to go on that mission because you didn't trust me, because I was _expendable_? Did you think I would have refused? Did you think I didn't know it was a suicide mission anyway?"

"Carth," Aayla said, her face a mask of bewilderment, "what are you talking about?"

"Don't play games with me," he snarled, and the Twi'lek drew back from her screen at his intensity. "I'm tired of your lies and subterfuge and politics. You were going to let me die up there, weren't you? You never planned on allowing me to destroy Revan; I was just the courier for your bomb. Let me take it up there and then just vaporize everyone. That was the plan, wasn't it?"

Aayla's blue skin paled, and she shook her head. "I… I don't know what you're talking about –"

"Stop lying to me!" Carth shouted, and the Twi'lek flinched at his outburst. He gripped both sides of the console and fixed her with a fierce glare. "I want the truth, Aayla," he said, now almost whispering. "I want the _truth_, and I want it _now_."

She shifted in her chair, then glanced to either side. "Carth, this channel is for emergencies only. I really don't think you should be –"

"Emergencies?" Carth scoffed. "Like updates on Revan? From the reports on the HoloNet recently it sounds like you already know where she is - dead. Never to bother the people of this fair Republic again, they say. Are you the one feeding broadcasters such ridiculous fabrications or is that Admiral Ostuda's doing?"

This time Aayla's color darkened. "Carth!" she spat. "Watch your mouth!"

"Or what?" he countered. "I'm a hero of the Republic, remember? The other lie that's been blasted all over the news." He spread his arms to either side. "What can they do to me now? My decoration ceremony is tomorrow; court-martialing me would be rather embarrassing for the Navy brass, wouldn't it?"

The Twi'lek's mouth fell open, but shock rendered her incapable of speech.

Carth leaned closer to his screen. "Or maybe it wouldn't be something so obvious. Maybe they could just get rid of me another way… some kind of accident, perhaps, or maybe they'll just stick me in some flaming office to push papers for the rest of my life." He turned away from the console, realizing how close that statement came to describing his life of late, and paced a short line across the room, then came back. Aayla still stared up at him silently. "I know about the detonator, Aayla," he said quietly, evenly. "I know it was in the armor your people gave me. The armor I was supposed to _wear_. I wasn't meant to make it off the Star Forge, was I? And now you think you can just hand me a promotion and pretend everything worked out? Do you think I don't realize what's going on?"

"No, Carth," Aayla interjected finally, "it's not like that –"

"No?" He straightened from the console, his glare hard and merciless. "Well then maybe you can tell me what it _is_ like?"

Silence stretched between them as Aayla hesitated. She looked from side to side again, as if afraid of being seen or overheard. Then she sighed heavily and leaned forward. "The detonator was _Plan B_," she hissed, speaking to him as if he was having trouble understanding something very simple. "It was meant only as a backup in case you weren't able to get to Revan. A _backup_, Carth. Intended only to be detonated if you were already dead."

"I wasn't dead," he snapped.

"And you weren't wearing it, either," Aayla bit back. "It was triggered early; probably by one of Darth Revan's subordinates on accident."

_Lieutenant Sanders_, Carth thought, but he said nothing aloud.

"The only other way it could have been triggered," Aayla continued, "other than by our remote, is if it had been penetrated by a lightsaber or blaster bolt." She saw the protest forming on his lips and beat him to the argument. "Given that it was reinforced with a cortosis weave, the chances of that were slim, even had you actually been wearing the armor. And, _if _that had happened while you were wearing it, you would have already been dead when it detonated, as I said."

"Yah, no chance I could have _survived _being shot or stabbed," Carth muttered churlishly.

Aayla stood from her seat, her dark eyes flashing. "You said yourself it was a suicide mission. You knew the chances of your survival as surely as we did. I'm sure I don't have to remind you that if it were not for Revan's intervention, you _would_ have died up there. No one could have survived the injury you sustained otherwise."

"And had I been wearing that armor of yours, I'd have definitely been vaporized."

"As would Revan," Aayla added in a low voice. "And then all those fabrications you've heard on the HoloNet would be true. Revan would be dead. The war would be over."

Carth stared into her blue-skinned face for a long moment, and an uncomfortable feeling settled into his gut. Even after spending six weeks on Coruscant, he still questioned whether or not he had done the right thing aboard the Star Forge. Many days he was convinced he should have killed Revan, or at least tried his best, no matter the consequences. And many nights he was certain he should have done more to save her… perhaps even agreed to join her, if that's what it took. "I would have done it," he said finally, softly, even as a part of him wondered which choice he spoke of. "I just… I just didn't have enough time…"

"I never doubted you, Carth," Aayla whispered; she resumed her seat, her gaze softening. "When we got the signal that the detonator had been triggered…" She shook her head and dropped her eyes briefly, then took a deep breath and looked up to him again. "For stars' sake, Carth, I thought you were… I thought I had been the one that led you up there, that put you in that situation…"

"And the detonator?" he asked tonelessly. "Was that a part of your plan, too?"

"No," she answered at once. "That was… that was an addition by other members of the organization."

Carth crossed his arms. "Faxx?"

Aayla's eyes flicked up to meet his before wandering away again. "Among others…"

"Well then you can tell Master Faxx that his little bomb ruined everything," Carth growled, anger leaking back into his blood. "Its detonation made Revan suspicious. She blamed _me_ for the Star Forge's destruction… she knew the armor came from the _Iridonian Star_, that it was military issue, that only someone highly skilled in demolitions could have modified it in such a way. If it wouldn't have gone off when it did…" He shook his head. "The explosion gave Bastila an opening to attack me. If not for that, things might have turned out differently…"

"Nothing went according to plan, Carth," Aayla offered gently.

"You should have trusted me." But they hadn't – and they didn't – and he knew now they never would.

"It's not that we didn't trust you," the Twi'lek insisted. "We had to plan for all possible outcomes. We couldn't have known how Revan would react to your presence on the Star Forge, or what might happen to you once you confronted her. There were too many unknowns. We had to do everything we could to ensure the mission would be a success."

Carth remained silent, staring hard at the woman on the screen before him and trying to decide if she actually believed in what she said.

"I'm sorry we couldn't tell you about the detonator," she added. "It was decided that would be too risky considering the methods Darth Revan used to get information from those she captured. If she would have discovered the detonator before it could be triggered…"

Aayla trailed off, leaving Carth to finish the thought himself. He wondered if Revan would have still saved him if she'd known of the bomb, or if it would have made any difference to her that he hadn't known about it either.

"Revan isn't dead," he said abruptly. "And I'm no hero." He cut the transmission before Aayla could reply and turned his back on the console, then ran his hands through his hair and exhaled heavily. _So much for answers._

He already knew the two most important truths, anyway; Revan _wasn't_ dead, and he most certainly did not deserve to be called a hero of the Republic. He had accomplished nothing by going to the Star Forge… he had neither saved nor killed Revan, and despite what the HoloNet stories and Navy brass might claim, he'd really had nothing to do with the destruction of Revan's space station. How could they credit that to him when he'd never had knowledge of the detonator in the first place?

_A publicity stunt. A way to give the people hope. A way to keep me under control. They think a promotion is what I want… they think it will keep me happy…_

Carth shook his head in disbelief. He'd felt uncomfortable with people referring to him as Admiral ever since the unofficial promotion in Ostuda's office. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with the whole situation. But until tonight, until Revan had unwittingly shown him a truth he never could have discovered on his own, he had just gone along with everything. Grudgingly accepting it, telling himself it would all work out eventually… his feeling of guilt would pass, the Navy would start assigning him more meaningful tasks, he would use his promotion to clean up the rest of Revan's empire…

But now he knew. Now he knew none of those things would happen. His promotion was a front to keep him mollified while they continued to use him. A PR stunt to keep the public happy while they continued to search frantically for Revan before she could return and shatter the Republic's fragile lead in the slowly dwindling war. All of it was a lie. A lie he'd been helping continue for two weeks now. A lie he would help solidify by officially receiving his Admiral's pin at the decoration ceremony later that very afternoon – in front of millions of people. Millions of people who believed he had personally destroyed the Star Forge, who believed he was a hero, who believed Revan was dead.

Carth swallowed hard, nausea building in his throat at the thought. He jumped as the communications console behind him beeped; Aayla was trying to call him back. But he didn't answer it. Instead he went to his closet and pulled out an old duffel bag. He wasn't going to be a part of the lie any longer. If they wanted Revan, they could find her themselves. He'd been through enough, and was more than fed up with being other people's puppet. It was time he lived for himself.

He shoved a few pairs of clothes into the bag and then hurriedly dressed in his most nondescript civilian outfit. The console across the room continued to beep; Carth knew a unit had probably already been dispatched to check on him – another so-called safety measure. He didn't have much time. He slapped a hat onto his head and tugged it low over his brow, hoping it would help to hide his features. He wondered absently if the galaxy-wide broadcasts of his face were another subtle measure by the Navy to keep him from straying too far. After all, as a hero of the Republic, it would be hard to go anywhere without being recognized. But Carth could think of a few favors he had yet to call in… favors that could get him off-planet without being noticed.

He shouldered the duffel bag and buckled his holster around his waist, checking to be sure his blaster carbine was fully charged before setting it on stun. He moved quickly for the living room and paused to peek through the front window's blinds. The two agents stationed outside were still on alert, their rifles held across their chests, their eyes darting through the shadows. Carth sighed, retreating from the window. He had to give them credit – they did their job well. Luckily for him, he had the element of surprise. He would have to act fast and disappear fast… and hope he was right in assuming they wouldn't kill him if things didn't go according to plan.

He took a deep breath, readied his blaster, and opened the door. As he had expected, the two guards turned toward the noise. Carth took one step and two shots; both men fell unconscious to the sidewalk. The soldier paused for a split second in surprise at how well that had worked, then reached down and took the nearest one's comlink. He clipped it to his own belt and moved out into the complex's lush courtyard, walking briskly and keeping his head down.

"Admiral Onasi."

Carth froze mid-step, his grip tightening around his blaster.

"I'm gonna have to ask that you drop the weapon, put your hands in the air, and turn around slowly. Sir."

Carth hesitated.

"Now," the voice ordered, and Carth reluctantly lifted his hands shoulder-high. He heard the man behind him activate a comm. "This is agent one-oh-niner, I'm gonna need some backup in Sector 21, Section C." A tinny voice came back: "Roger that one-oh-niner, backup is on the way. ETA two minutes."

Carth ground his teeth, cautiously turning around to face the third posted agent he'd never managed to discover. "You don't want to do that," he said.

The man steadied his rifle, pointing it at Carth's chest. "You going somewhere, Admiral?"

"That's right. I'm not allowed to leave my apartment now, is that it?"

The agent smiled coldly. "Not if wherever you're going requires you to incapacitate two of my boys. Now drop that blaster and kick it over my way."

It was Carth's turn to smile. "I don't appreciate being babysat," he said, and then he threw his blaster at the other man's head. The agent ducked the flying weapon and in that instant Carth lashed out with a boot, catching the man in the face and knocking him off balance. Carth went for the rifle, but the agent anticipated his move and brought the gun's butt into the soldier's temple. Carth staggered as white flashed across his vision; a fist drove into his gut and knocked the air out of him. He dropped to his knees as pain shot through his chest, squeezing his lungs, suffocating him…

"This is one-oh-niner," Carth vaguely heard the agent call again into his comm. "We got a priority situation here, I need backup and a medical unit –"

Carth rolled onto his side and kicked the man in the knee; the joint gave way with a sickening crack and the agent collapsed to the permacrete with a shriek. Carth snatched the rifle and struggled to his feet, breathing heavily and still fighting off the ache in his chest. "I told you, you don't want to be doing that," he panted, glaring down at the other man. "You should have just let me be on my way."

The agent shook his head, his face rapidly paling as he clutched at his ruined leg. "Think… about what… you're doing, Admiral," the man gasped. "Think hard."

Carth grunted. "I've done enough thinking," he muttered, dabbing briefly at the line of blood that trickled from his temple. "And don't call me Admiral." He looped the rifle over his shoulder and turned his back on the agent, slipping away into the courtyard's shadows just as the sirens of the other man's backup filled the glittering Coruscant night.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

* * *


	36. Epilogue: Hope for Redemption

**Epilogue: Hope for Redemption**

A nameless tiny planet, dark and dull. It lingered on the edge of known space, still undiscovered by the galactic mainstream. Uninhabited except by a small group of people huddled in makeshift homes constructed from rusted out spaceship hulls and cargo crates. Only a few of them were left now. They had waited there for so long… plotting and watching, struggling to survive, until their leader returned. She told them to wait, to maintain the outpost, to service the satellites, until the time was right - until she came back to put their plan into action.

But after two years with no further orders, they had given up on her. They had battled amongst themselves for leadership and power. The result had been their near extinction. At last, after most of them were dead, an uneasy truce was established, and one Dark Jedi became the accepted leader. Zaffia Jergen. Zaffia had her own agenda, and made her own rules. She didn't bother with the satellites.

The disrepair of the satellites was the first thing Revan noticed when she entered the tiny planet's system. As she eased Kreia's Sith starfighter down to the rocky, barren ground outside the small encampment, anger already coursed hot through her blood. She climbed down from the cockpit and strode toward the pathetic huddle of structures, sensing at once the shock and fear emanating from those who were left as they realized their leader had finally returned… and they had failed to carry out her orders.

She saw their faces peering through doorways and around corners. But no one came to meet her, or greet her. _The cowards._ _The fools._ Revan walked purposefully to the center of the outpost, fists clenched at her sides. She had left a former Admiral of the Republic in charge when she last stepped foot on this planet, but she no longer felt his presence. She sensed that many were missing... all killed in the power struggle that still tainted the Force as the blood had stained the dirt. Revan knew who had won that struggle. The Force signatures of the people who remained rippled with her presence.

Revan drew in a deep breath. "Zaffia!" she barked, and her voice tore through the deathly silence, ringing against the rocks. People stirred within the buildings at the sound of the name, but still none of them dared step out into the open. None save Zaffia Jergen herself.

The former Jedi came slowly at Revan's summons, appearing from behind the hull of a crashed Republic cruiser. She was tall and lean, wearing dark and dusty robes, her black hair in complete disarray. But her blue eyes glittered brightly as she approached the Dark Lord, and a lazy smile spread across her still-youthful face. "Lord Revan," she purred, giving a hasty bow, "so you've finally returned to us. It has been so long, we considered you dead."

"Four years is nothing, you fool," Revan snapped in reply, but she didn't waste time with small talk. There was only one thing filling her mind at the moment. "The satellites!" she hissed through her teeth. "I gave you one simple order when I left and you incompetent swamp slugs couldn't even stick to it! Now those satellites are nothing more than space junk!"

Zaffia rolled her eyes. "Those satellites were useless, anyway. They always have been. You stranded us here on this dung-heap of a planet to look at a bunch of empty space. There's nothing out there. There never was."

A bolt of Force lightning threw Zaffia off her feet; the woman landed in a crumpled pile several meters away, her black robes smoldering. She groaned, but moved to get to her hands and knees almost immediately, sending Revan a wicked glare. "You bitch," the woman rasped, shoving herself to her feet. "You think you can just walk in here after four years and expect to –"

Revan opened both palms this time; the Force lightning lit up the sides of the surrounding cargo crates and broken hulls as Zaffia's agonized screams echoed off the durasteel. The Dark Jedi writhed in the dirt, and Revan watched with cold satisfaction until Zaffia finally fell silent, and her thrashing stilled… until Zaffia Jergen was no more than a blackened, smoking corpse in the middle of the outpost she had once ruled with an iron fist. Revan ceased the lightning and let the following silence linger, pressing down upon those who cowered out of her sight, suffocating them with its entirety.

Then, finally, she spoke aloud. "Those satellites were your first priority," she said lowly. "I gave you one task… _one task_. You have all failed me. All of you. Show your faces, you sniveling cowards."

It was a long moment before anyone obeyed. A few shadows reluctantly emerged from their previous hiding places, but Revan still sensed many others who remained motionless. She probed for their locations through the Force and committed them to memory. They would pay for their insolence, worse than these others would pay for their failures.

"M-my Lord," one man stammered, sinking to the ground and groveling at Revan's feet. "Please… please forgive us. It had been so long with no word… we had no way of knowing… and – and Zaffia… she left us little choice. Those who did not follow her were brutally slain –"

"Shut up," Revan snarled, and the man did so, glancing up to her furtively before turning his gaze back to the dirt beneath his nose. The Dark Lord turned her burning gaze to the rest of those who had been brave enough to step into the open. One after the other they knelt before her, as if their subjugations could make up for their two years of disloyalty, as if that would repair the ancient satellites she and Malak had once so painstakingly gathered and placed. Revan felt the cold currents of the Dark Side swarming around her in the wake of her rage, making her limbs tingle with strength, with power… making her invincible… She glanced back down to the man stooped at her feet, unhooking her lightsaber from her belt. "You miserable curs should thank the Force your deaths will be quick," she whispered. "Your friends still in hiding will not be so lucky."

The man at her feet had hardly begun his protest before she ignited her lightsaber and sent his head rolling across the earth.

* * *

Carth hit the floor in a tangle of sheets, the sound of his own screams still ringing in his ears. He gasped air through a raw throat, his whole body trembling, his skin prickling in horror. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the images of the dead were burned onto his eyelids and he opened them again quickly, staring down at the carpet beneath him instead. "Oh gods," he choked. "Oh gods…" _She killed them._ _She murdered them. She murdered all of them. _He felt suddenly sick and hurriedly threw off the sheets to stagger into the fresher, where he promptly vomited into the toilet.

Carth Onasi had seen plenty of war in his life. He'd seen more innocents die needlessly than he ever cared to remember. His own wife had died in his arms… his own son cut down by a lightsaber… the people he had traveled with, fought with, and protected for nine months had been pointlessly murdered by the woman he thought he'd loved. But none of that – none of it – was as frightening as what he'd just seen. _No. No, it wasn't her. It couldn't have been her…_ Carth wiped his mouth on a towel and then leaned back against the wall, sinking down to the floor. He put his head in his hands, taking deep, even breaths in an attempt to quell the vice-like panic that gripped his heart.

He knew what he had seen. He knew what he had felt. The cold touch of the Force, the surge of power, the burning hatred, the utter ruthlessness… it froze the blood in his veins to think of her like that… to remember how dispassionately she had killed them. Her former followers, all struck down one by one. Some swiftly, some slowly… some horribly tortured while she watched without blinking, without remorse. Their screams pierced his ears, their cries for mercy made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He'd watched all of it through Revan's eyes, seeing what she saw and feeling what she felt over his own numbing shock; a helpless witness to her rampage – connected by their bond and held in place by his horror.

Until it was finally over, and they all lie dead. Then he'd been released; woken up here in his own bed in orbit around Corellia, and Revan - the monster she'd become - was once again left millions of light-years away. Carth shook his head and swallowed hard, fighting the urge to be sick again. He had tried repeatedly over the course of the past five months to reach the part of her that still seemed to linger in his mind, but she was never there when he sought her out. Despite what Jedi Master Faxx once claimed, it seemed apparent to Carth that Revan had full control over the link she had forged with him. Since the night he'd discovered the truth about the detonator and the destruction of the Star Forge, he had experienced nothing else through their bond.

But this… Carth got the distinct impression she wanted him to see it. She had even thought of him amid the bloody slaughter. While torturing her subordinates for their failures, she had remembered her conversation with him aboard the Star Forge, his refusal to join her cause, and her inability to kill him for his rejection later. The raw emotions that accompanied those memories shocked Carth as much as her brutal actions and a new, terrible understanding began to unfold within him. _She blames me. She blames me for everything. If I had joined her, if I had stayed with her, she wouldn't have left. She thinks I drove her to this…_ He thought of the expression on her face when he'd told her he still loved her, when he'd admitted he still wanted a future with her. And the panic that had crossed her features as Bastila impaled him…

"_Come back to me, Carth. Please come back to me. Don't leave me. I still need you. Please…"_

Carth blinked hard; tears mixed with the sweat on his face. He'd had the chance to save her. He'd seen a glimpse of Moriel Ithilio behind Revan's dark façade, but instead of heeding the emotion in his heart, he'd fallen back to what he knew best, to what he knew was safe: being a soldier. Serving the Republic. And now Revan was falling deeper and deeper into the Dark Side. _I'm the only one who can save her_, Carth thought dazedly, finally putting into words the nagging sensation that had haunted him ever since the incident on the Star Forge. _I'm the only one she'll listen to. I should have just stayed with her. I should have given her what she wanted. I could have saved her, given enough time. I know I could have._

"_I loved you, Carth. I needed you! And you betrayed me… you left me… you abandoned me for them!"_

Carth pressed his hands into his eyes and took a deep, trembling breath. She was right. She was right about everything. He'd abandoned her at all the times she'd needed him the most, and now he was losing her piece by piece. Losing her forever. Just like Morgana. Just like Dustil…

"… _I'll stand by you through whatever lies ahead. I promise." _His one-time vow to Moriel echoed mockingly through his thoughts and Carth lurched forward, retching into the toilet again. But even as his insides twisted with shame at how miserably he had failed the woman he loved, he knew what he had to do. He'd been hiding on Corellia for four months now, living simply as a lowly dockworker and trying to pretend the past two years of his life had never happened. Tyvekk's younger brother Tylo had given Carth the job and helped to make sure the proclaimed "hero of the Republic" remained as unnoticed and unremarkable as possible. But it was time to stop hiding. It was time to stop running.

_I have to find her. I have to find Revan. It's the only way…_

Carth wiped his mouth again and rose unsteadily to his feet. He splashed cold water over his face and attempted to finger-comb his sweaty hair into some sort of order. His efforts did little good; he still looked pale and shaken. But Carth spent no more time in front of the mirror. He moved back into the bedroom and began to dress in proper civilian traveling attire, activating the specially-encrypted com unit by his bedside as he did so. If he was going to leave Corellia, he needed a ship. And Tylo Salinger was not only the manager of a Corellian shipyard, he was also the only person Carth still truly trusted.

The man answered quickly and sounded very much awake despite the fact it was supposed to be the middle of the night. Carth wasn't surprised; Tyvekk had never seemed to sleep, either.

"Hey, Carth! Good to hear from ya… didn't think you'd be awake at this hour."

"Yah, neither did I," Carth muttered gruffly, then cleared his throat. "Look, Tylo… I hate to say this after everything you've done for me, but I need a ship."

"A ship?" the man repeated incredulously. "What, are you leaving already?"

"That's right." Carth pulled on his boots and grabbed the same duffel bag he'd packed on Coruscant, beginning to fill it with clothes once again. "I have something I need to do."

"Er… okay." Carth could tell his long-time friend didn't like the idea. "Can't it wait awhile? You know, till things cool down a little?"

Carth shook his head despite the fact the com unit was non-visual. "No. I have to go now. Tonight."

"Tonight?! Carth, what's going on? Did Intelligence get to you?"

"No," Carth said quickly. "No, nothing like that. It's just something personal. Something I need to take care of, and it can't wait any longer." He fastened his weapons belt around his waist and went to the expansive windows across the room, activating the switch that lifted the night-time shade. Tylo's orbital shipyard stretched before him, and beyond it, the night-side of Corellia hung among the stars.

"I… I'm not sure now is the best time for you to be traveling, Carth." Tylo's voice carried through the bedroom.

"Why not?" Carth asked, but he was only half-listening. He stared off into space, thinking of the tiny, barren planet Revan had shown him and wondering where it could be in all that vast, vast emptiness.

"Haven't you been watching the news lately?" Tylo asked in exasperation. "For stars' sake, Carth, you're all over it!"

The statement brought the soldier abruptly back to the present. "What?"

Tylo snorted in disbelief. "Oh for the love of… Look, turn it on now. You'll see what I mean."

Carth obeyed, walking the few steps into the apartment's tiny living room and flipping on the HoloNet to the station for all main galaxy-wide news. A bright female Zeltron broadcaster cheerfully gave the report: "… and it became official just last week – the conflict now known as the Jedi Civil War has finally come to an end. There are many celebrations taking place on many worlds today, but of course the officially sanctioned "holiday", as some are calling it, is centered on Coruscant. Some of the festivities include dancing, food-tasting from around the galaxy, air stunts by a few of the Republic's most skilled pilots…"

Carth blinked. He had tried so hard over the past few months to ignore the updates on the war that he hadn't even realized it was really over. The Republic had won. After so much fighting, so much death, after Revan had come so close to toppling it forever…

"Several key members of Parliament are expected to make appearances later today, along with many of the most important military leaders of the war," the jovial newscaster continued. "Admirals Ric Ostuda and Gina Kupik will be dedicating the memorial to the war's fallen heroes, and Admiral Nigel Riffman will be appearing on behalf of all those who fought so hard to protect our Republic from the traitorous Sith."

The screen cut away from the woman to show Nigel stepping from a Navy-endorsed air taxi, his uniform crisp and clean, his insignia pins and war medals flashing in the bright afternoon sun. A massive, cheering swarm of people surrounded the platform he stood on; waving arms, streamers, and confetti periodically obscured the cameras. Carth stared stupidly at the screen.

"We have learned recently that Admiral Carth Onasi will not be joining in on today's celebration." The reporter continued her narration, and the image of Nigel was replaced by a larger photo of Carth himself, looking quite happy in his Admiral's uniform. Carth wondered where the hell they had found such a picture. "Though Admiral Onasi has largely been hailed as the champion of the Jedi Civil War – the one who destroyed the Star Forge and finally ended Darth Revan's reign of terror – he has chosen to remain hidden from the public eye. It is speculated his elusiveness is due to the assassination attempt just months ago which caused him to miss out on his own decoration ceremony…"

"Flaming hell," Carth muttered.

"… when asked about Admiral Onasi's absence, Admiral Ostuda simply stated that Onasi has kept a low profile to discourage further assassination attempts by as-yet-unknown Sith supporters, and that he is enjoying his retirement…"

A derisive snort escaped Carth despite himself. _Enjoying my retirement? _The lies were getting more and more ridiculous. When he left Coruscant, Carth had assumed the Navy brass would make up some kind of story as to why he had not shown up at his own decoration ceremony. To admit that the highly-praised hero of the Republic had gone AWOL would be terribly embarrassing. Carth supposed he should count himself lucky that his assumption had been correct. Dealing with the lies about his role in the downfall of Revan, the death of Revan, the "assassination attempt" the night before his public promotion, and his so-called retirement had certainly been easier than the alternative of dodging law enforcement had the Navy chosen to pursue him for a court-martial instead.

Of course, Carth didn't believe for a minute that they had let him go so easily. They were still looking for him, just very quietly. The continued broadcasts of his face and his deeds made it harder for him to go anywhere unnoticed; made it harder for him to hide. He suspected several of his coworkers on the docks had recognized him by now, and often had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched or followed. Likely someone from Republic Special Forces already knew he was on Corellia. Why they had yet to confront him or drag him back to Coruscant though was another matter entirely. It seemed they were waiting for something…

"Carth, you still there?"

The soldier jolted from his musings and turned off the live broadcast, returning to his room and the com unit. "Yah. I'm still here."

"See what I mean?" Tylo persisted. "Everyone and their gort will recognize you now. You're famous."

"Yah." Carth sighed heavily. "But I'm still leaving. And I still need a ship. So if you don't want to give me one -"

"What? No, no, no, it's not like that. Look Carth, you know I'm about the only outsider who knows the truth about your whole situation, and that's only because you told me yourself. It's not safe for you to go anywhere else - not right now, anyway. Let this thing die down a bit -"

"I can't," Carth interrupted, swinging the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder and holstering his blaster. "I've waited too long already. I have to go now, before it's too late."

"But... _right now_? You're sure it has to be tonight?"

"Yes. I'm sure." Carth shut his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. He couldn't get the images out of his head - Revan so freely killing and torturing those people, then standing over so many dead bodies and feeling they had all served such terrible fates...

Tylo let out a frustrated grunt. "You'd think _you_ were the one related to Tyvekk," he muttered. "All right. Fine. You wanna leave tonight, I'll arrange a ship for you."

"Thank you."

"But given the ridiculously short notice, it's not going to be the most beautiful hunk of junk you've ever seen."

"I don't care what it looks like," Carth assured the other man. "As long as it's reliable."

"Yah, yah. I'll find you something. Meet me at the docks in half an hour?"

Carth headed for the apartment's door, answering Tylo over his shoulder. "I'm already on my way." And with that Carth pulled his blaster and sent a shot into the com; it sparked and sizzled, then went dark. If Intelligence did know he was here, he didn't want to take the chance of them going through his communications once they found out he'd moved on again. The soldier paused at the door, doing a visual sweep of the miniscule living quarters to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Then, satisfied he'd retrieved everything of value, he left.

* * *

A half an hour later Carth paced in front of the massive security door that, during the night shift, blocked the apartment complex from the main levels of the docks. Since Carth had never worked the night shift, he lacked the proper codes to open it. So he waited impatiently for Tylo. The man appeared shortly, walking briskly through the connecting tunnel from the direction of his large and luxurious orbiting estate. He shook his head as he spotted Carth already waiting for him.

"You sure you're all right, Carth?" Tylo asked as he approached. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Carth shrugged half-heartedly_. In a manner of speaking_, he thought, but aloud said only, "I'm fine."

"You haven't seen any agents creeping around here, have you?"

The man eyed him suspiciously and Carth felt the need to be truthful. "No… but they might know I'm here."

Tylo swore under his breath and moved past Carth to slide his manager's pass card through the security door's scanner. The heavy door opened slowly; the two of them stepped through into the tunnel that would lead them down to the shipyard's main levels. "I assume that's why you ended our earlier conversation so abruptly? What'd you do, destroy the com unit?"

"I shot it, sorry. It's safer that way, anyway."

"Right. Do you know how expensive that thing was? It's a serious pain in the ass to find a good encryption package these days –"

"I'll pay you back," Carth offered.

Tylo snorted. "Not on a dockworker's salary. You should have taken the Project Lead spot I offered you –"

"Tylo, you know I couldn't. And you know why."

The other man sighed. "Yah, you were trying to stay out of sight. But here you are taking off in the middle of the night in the midst of all these stories about how much of a hero you are… I just hope you know what you're doing."

"Me too," Carth muttered.

"At least let me arrange some false eye witness reports of your whereabouts or something to throw any potential followers off-track."

Carth threw a sideways glance at his friend. "You can do that?"

Tylo returned the soldier's surprised question with a lopsided grin that was painfully similar to his brother's. "Of course. The Corellian Engineering Corporation carries more influence than most people give it credit for."

"That would probably be a good idea then, if it's not too much trouble," Carth admitted.

"Consider it done." They stopped outside of one specific docking bay and Tylo slid his card again, then typed in a rather long string of numbers on a keypad. The double doors opened to reveal a spacious shipping berth, occupied by a single light freighter that was generally triangular in design, with three engines arranged across the back.

Carth drew up short at the sight of it. "Oh."

Tylo smiled knowingly at his friend's reaction. "She's a YG-4210. Not brand new, but she's had a thorough service inspection, a few refurbishments, a few upgrades. Standard shielding, but made for space exploration rather than dog-fighting. All she's got as far as weapons are two little blasters in the front, and those were add-ons. So I wouldn't recommend picking any fights while you're out and about."

Carth shook his head, walking toward the freighter and studying its sleek shape in appreciation. "I'm not planning on doing any fighting. I just need something to get me from Point A to Point B." _If I can even find Point B…_

Tylo nodded, following Carth across the bay. "Well then she should work for you just fine. She's fully fueled and ready to go; equipped with enough consumables to last a year. Though that's planning for two people, so you could probably make the supplies last longer if you wanted."

Carth reached the side of the ship and ran his hand across one of the panels, noticing the name painted elegantly along the section above him: _The Dryad_. He turned to Tylo. "You sure you don't need this thing? I could take something else. Something smaller…"

"No," the other man insisted. "You wanted something reliable, you should take this one. It's the best suited for you, anyway. I was holding it for an older couple who wanted to use it as a cruising vehicle." Tylo shrugged. "I can find a replacement for them easily enough."

Carth shook his head again. "Tylo… I don't even know what to say… I don't know how I could ever repay you for this…"

The man grinned. "I do. Be careful with my ship, and bring her back someday. In one piece, mind you."

"I will. You have my word. And thank you… for everything."

Tylo shrugged. "It's the least I could do after what you did for my brother. Anyone else would have left him there…"

Carth began to protest but Tylo waved his words away, knowing the soldier's feelings on the Battle of Malachor V all too well. "No, don't start. You did right by Tyvekk, and right by me. That's all that matters." He extended his hand. "I'm not going to ask why you're leaving, or where you're going, but be careful. And good luck."

The soldier stood for a moment with his mouth open, wanting to continue his argument over what had happened on Malachor, but in the end he let it go, and grasped Tylo's offered hand. "Thank you. Again."

"Any time, friend. Now you start her up; I'll open the bay doors. As soon as you've cleared the shipyard I'll get to work planting those random sightings of you."

Carth grunted. "You know, I might be gone for awhile, but when I get back, I owe you big time."

Tylo started for the small control room at the back of the docking bay. "Just bring my ship back and I'll consider us even."

"She won't have a scratch," Carth promised, and then he lowered the boarding ramp and entered _The Dryad_. It was a decent ship; he noticed right away that the inside had been slightly rearranged and refurbished for use as a cruising vehicle rather than a cargo freighter. But the modifications wouldn't affect his trip. If anything, they would make it far more comfortable. Carth made his way to the small cockpit and threw his duffel bag into the footlocker resting near the doorway, then settled himself into the pilot's chair. He ran a swift preflight check, pleasantly surprised by the responsiveness of the systems, and powered up the engines. Their rumble made him smile. _By the stars, I've missed flying…_

To his left Carth could see Tylo in the control room; to his right, the docking bay doors began to open, revealing an ever-widening strip of space. He felt a thrill roll through his gut, a mix of anticipation and dread. He looked back to Tylo and the man tossed him a salute. Carth returned it sharply, then lifted _The Dryad_ off the pad before he could have second thoughts and swung her around to slowly maneuver out of the docking bay.

He carefully piloted the freighter through the shipyard into open space, away from Corellia, and then the whole galaxy stretched before him. Carth let the ship drift for a moment, staring out at the stars, then pulled up a star map on the nav computer. He searched the edge of all the known systems, looking for any unnamed or uninhabited planets. He found many… all tiny and insignificant, all lacking any other information except for the fact that they existed.

Carth tried to quell the impatience that stirred in his chest and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, concentrating on a mental image of Revan, feeling for her presence in his mind. _Revan, where are you?_ He tried to send the thought across their bond, but felt foolish even as he made the attempt. He didn't have the Force, didn't know how it worked, and knew very little about what the connection between them would allow to be transferred. Was it even possible for him to use it to reach Revan? Or was she, as a Force-user, the only one who could utilize it? _Where are you?_

There was no answer. No flutter of her in his head, no flicker of foreign images. Nothing. Carth opened his eyes, resigning himself to the fact he would have to do this the hard way. He suppressed a groan as he turned his attention back to the star map and picked one of the small, unnamed planets randomly. It rested between the Tingle Arm of the galaxy and the Unknown Regions, but Carth programmed the nav computer for a jump to Ord Mantell, and then to Muunilinst. He didn't want to take the chance of being followed; it was better to take no direct routes.

Carth buckled his restraint harness and looked out into space, his hand hovering over the lever that would engage the hyperdrive. He recalled the sight of the people Revan had killed and grimaced. _What if she doesn't listen to me? What if I fail? I'll end up just like one of them… _He gritted his teeth. _No, I have to try. She won't kill me. She can't. I can save her. I just need to find her…_

Carth took a deep breath and pulled the lever; _The Dryad_ streaked off into hyperspace, leaving the Corellian system far behind.

* * *

THE END.

* * *

**"Gort" definition:** A small creature with fluffy blue fur. They were kept as pets. "Everyone and thier gort" is a play on the phrase "Everyone and their dog."

**Author's Note:** WHOOHOO! It's official! I've finished my first multi-chaptered fanfic! I am planning a sequel so many things left unanswered from Betrayed will be answered in the sequel. Unfortunately I won't get to work on it until my LOTR fic is finished, so it will be a few months till I get started on that, but it will come along eventually. I hope this ending will tide you over until then. Sorry this chapter took so long to post... it had to be rewritten. But it's certainly better for it.

**Acknowledgments:** THE MOST THANKS EVER GOES TO MY BETA RIAN SAGE!!! She has helped me sooo incredibly much throughout the life of this fic, it wouldn't even be the same without her input, suggestions, and encouraging comments. Kudos to Rian for being perfectly blunt and making me rewrite this last chapter, she helped me realize it wasn't what I wanted to leave readers with, and as a result I ended up with a much, much better chapter. THANK YOU TO ALICE THE REVAN as well, for without her military advice I wouldn't have been able to make the fic as accurate!!

THANK YOU ALSO TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU WHO READ AND/OR REVIEWED THIS FIC! Your enthusiasm, encouragement, and concrit kept me writing over the past two years. I appreciate all the time you've dedicated to this fic! I hope the story was satisfactory, and that you'll enjoy the sequel. Until next time,  
Lossefalme

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